Tainted White
by Shire.Conspire
Summary: She had fallen for the darkness...and it had consumed her in lies...now she'll discover someone who was there all along...and her world will be tainted white...SatoshiRisa
1. They Stood Alone on Seperate Ways

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or situations of DN Angel.

A/N: This story takes place after the last even of 'The Second Hand of Time'. The time frame begins the night at the museum, a few hours after Dark returns from Daisuke's painting with Daisuke. Riku and Risa are at the museum as well, where Riku has woken up to find Daisuke beside her and Risa has woken up lying on a park bench covered by a jacket containing a single white feather…

**Chapter One -- They Stood Alone On Separate Ways**

_They stood alone on separate ways_

_Two pillars made of ice and snow_

_And on into the passing days_

_They hadn't the heart to stay or go_

_She was lost, unknown, confused_

_A rose caught in a devil's snare_

_He was tired, used, abused_

_An angel in a monster's lair_

_Two troubled souls of black and white_

_Searching for answers they did not know_

_Yet left in reach of blinding sight_

_The answer etched in ice and snow…_

_K.B. Mallari_

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He shut the door with a slam and leaned his back against its smooth wood, deep breaths escaping him as he fought to gather his composure. For a moment there was nothing but a strange fog clouding his vision, and then he noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

Of course not. He wouldn't be wearing them…he didn't need them in his other form.

A trembling hand dug into his pocket and fished out the smooth metal, pulling it out and securing it before his azure eyes. Things began to slowly come into focus: the laces of his shoes, the mud on the hem of his trousers, the white feathers littering the floor around him. He stole a deep breath and held it.

Goddammit, he hated white feathers.

He slowly exhaled and looked up and stared out of his window. It was night, late night, and the moon shone regally in the sky. He hadn't been paying attention to what time it was back at the museum. So much had happened, and there was already so much on his mind…

He shivered involuntarily and wrapped his arms around himself. Cold, why was he so cold? He had dressed properly for the evening, right? He remembered doing so…

Ah. His jacket. He had given it to the younger Harada so she would not freeze during the night. Such a stupid gesture, exposing himself to the brittle air when his health was already so low. He would have brought her to her home, but he didn't know where she lived.

Not that he should have or anything.

With a groan he pushed himself from the door and slowly trudged his way to his bedroom. He passed his desk on the way and dropped the cloth containing his tools on its wooden surface. He glanced back to look at them. That mocking cross, pretending to encase paraphernalia made to create art when, in reality, housing artifacts used to reawaken monsters.

With much effort he tumbled into his bedroom, collapsing onto his solitary mattress. After a groan or two of frustration, he sat up and tore the shirt off his back, wincing at the sharp pains in his side. His fingers carefully grazed over his body, analyzing the damage. Two broken ribs, a fracture on the third, bruises all along his torso, and a minor sprain in his wrist. His collarbone sparked with the taunting of a break, there were shallow gashes across his left forearm and back, and every muscles in his body screamed in agony. He'd be sore as hell in the morning.

Not even bothering to remove his trousers, he laid back amongst his strewn bedclothes and removed his glasses, folding them carefully and tenderly placing them on the floor next to him. He would not attend to his injuries tonight, even though the intelligent thing to do would be to go straight to the hospital. But no, he hated hospitals, hated the way they always reminded him of his low blood pressure, or how feeble his health was becoming with each passing day, or how they constantly asked the origin of his pains.

He'd wait until morning. He'd wait until the sun came and then he'd worry about the condition of himself. But until then, all he wanted to do was rest.

The Second Hand of Time was quiet once more, satisfied with itself and dormant once again. Dark had returned and had brought Niwa back with him. Older Harada had her painting back. Younger Harada had his jacket. Freedert had Elliot. And Hiwatari had broken bones and a monstrous headache.

Everything was at it should have been.

There was a soft buzzing sound and a vibration in his pocket. Satoshi sought out the disturbance and withdrew his cell phone, silently ringing. He checked the screen.

Hiwatari.

His father.

With an effort he threw the phone across the room where it shattered against the far wall. Satoshi turned onto his side and closed his eyes. No matter how lonely he was, or how unneeded he seemed, or how uncared about he felt, it would never be enough for him to be glad to hear his father berate him on the phone.

--------

Risa doused her light and slipped under her covers. Her curtains were thrown wide open and her room blazed with moonlight, but she had no intention of shutting it out. She was used to the light streaming through her window. It comforted her.

She sighed and flipped on to her side, breathing deeply. Her head soon filled with the aroma of perfumed linen, lavender soap, and the night air hinted with cotton. Her fingers tightened their hold on the jacket lying next to her head as she closed her eyes.

She had nearly fainted when Riku lost her balance and fell from the roof, and then actually did so when she slipped off herself. The last thing she remembered was a flurry of white wings and the swaying sensation of being lifted into flight. She had hoped that it was Dark who had saved her, but he had gone after Riku.

And Dark's wings weren't white.

She breathed in again. Night air, clean and fresh. Mysterious. Shadowed. Dark.

Dark's jacket. It had to be. Her beloved Dark had left it for her so she would not freeze. He had brought her and her sister to safety and had covered her so she wouldn't be cold. Yes, that reasoning seemed to make sense. Who else would be there to take care of them? No one else was there…

Right?

She opened her eyes, thinking. If no one was there, then who was it that Dark was speaking to before they arrived? Someone else…with wings…white…?

She squeezed her eyes shut again. No. No one else was there. Just her, her sister, and her beloved Dark. And later on, Daisuke, when he showed up with Riku. Otherwise, there was no one else there. It had to be Dark's jacket. It had to be.

She flipped back onto her other side.

She'd just pretend that she hadn't found the white feather.

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Daisuke glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowed in worry. Hiwatari's seat was empty. Again. Empty for four days straight. That was hardly like Satoshi at all. He, himself, hadn't felt at all up to coming to school, what with Freedert and Elliot still pulsing through his mind, but he had dragged himself in despite his depression. He didn't want to raise suspicions on himself. Besides, Takeshi was getting diligent with the rehearsals for the play.

Which, on their own part, were difficult without the lead male role. So what could have happened to Hiwatari? The only other time he had been absent was when he was ill. Was he sick now? And if so, then it was a small wonder to why he had been gone so many days; there was no one at his apartment to take care of him other than himself.

Daisuke turned his eyes back to the teacher and away from Hiwatari's empty desk. Today, after school, he'd go and check up on Hiwatari. Maybe he'd ask Riku to come with him. Yes, that would be much better. Having Riku by his side would make things a lot easier. And she wouldn't ask questions to why he was sick because she was much too polite and kind for that.

Although, whatever injuries Krad and Dark had inflicted on Hiwatari had to be awful to make him disappear for four days.

--------

There was a loud banging sound and then voices—muffled voices—calling his name. More banging. More calling. Couldn't the world just leave him alone! One night; just one night of peace and quiet for him to rest and heal. He had only gone to bed a few hours ago, and he still needed many more for his body to analyze its injuries and settle into a comforting ache with them. All he wanted was undisturbed sleep.

Satoshi groaned and turned his face into the soft linen of his pillow. Just give him a few more hours…just a few…

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"He's not answering, Niwa-kun. Maybe we should just leave." But even though she said it, Riku could not bring herself to simply turn her back on Hiwatari's door. They had never been close, personally, and she couldn't really consider him to be a friend, what with his isolated exterior, but Daisuke did, and she was still worried about him, regardless.

"He's got to answer. He's home. I know it." Daisuke banged his fist on the door again, three times. "Hiwatari-san! Hiwatari-san! Hiwatari-san, answer the door!" He banged again. "Satoshi-kun!"

Riku pressed her ear against the cool wood and listened. "Nothing," she said, looking at Daisuke. "I can't hear anyone inside."

Daisuke sighed. "I'm really worried about him. It's not like Hiwatari-san to be gone so long, or ignore anyone at his door."

"Have you tired calling him?"

"Yes, but every time I dial his cell phone there's a recording saying that the number was disconnected."

Riku frowned. "That doesn't sound promising."

"So what are we going to do?" a voice asked behind them. Daisuke and Riku turned around to see Risa sitting on the floor behind them, waiting. Daisuke hadn't intentionally thought to bring her, but he couldn't bring Riku without taking her sister. "Are we just going to give up?"

Daisuke looked down and Riku shrugged. "It he's not answering then we can't help him."

"But what if he can't answer?" The younger Harada stood up and dusted off her skirt. "I've seen the way he gets when he just takes off his glasses, so if he's actually sick it must be horrible for him to just get out of bed. If we came to help then we have to get inside."

"How can we if he doesn't answer the door, Risa?"

She shrugged, looking down at her school bag clutched in her hand. "I don't know. I just know that we have to." Riku followed her gaze and noticed the sleeve of a jacket protruding from her sister's bag. It wasn't one that she could remember Risa owning.

Meanwhile, Daisuke continued to bang on the door and call out Satoshi's name. If he really was hurt badly, then he needed help, fast. He dropped his arm and stared at the closed door. Frustration was never an emotion that he dealt with easily.

He dropped his gaze to the lock. It was such a simple bolt, and one that would take not even an eye blink for him to break into. He glanced back at the Harada twins. Riku was facing her sister and had her back to him, and Harada-chan was looking down, preoccupied. They wouldn't notice if he simply cracked the lock configuration…

"Hey, look. The door's open," he announced, swinging it open. Riku and Risa both looked over, surprised.

"It just swung open like that?" Riku asked, taking a step forward and peeking into the apartment. Daisuke nodded, holding his breath.

"Hmm, that doesn't seem safe at all," Risa contributed, looking in behind her sister. "But at least it's open. Come on, Riku." She walked past her sister and took her hand to make her follow. Daisuke sighed dramatically and shook his head. He hated having to hide his training, but if he told both Harada's that _he_ had opened the lock, things would have gotten uncomfortable and suspicious. "Come on, Niwa-kun," Risa said. He nodded.

"Coming." He closed the door behind them and looked around. Hiwatari's apartment wasn't any cleaner than when he last saw it, but there was a different feel to it. Not the same, distant aura that pulsated from it but something older, stale, bland…

"What the--!"

"What is this?"

Daisuke looked up. Both girls had stopped in the middle of the room and were staring at the floor. Daisuke looked under his own feet and saw that he was standing on a blanket of snow white feathers, each one fluttering at the disturbance of their feet in the room.

Daisuke's heart stopped.

Krad.

"White feathers, everywhere." Riku spun around herself, causing a flurry of white to swirl about her feet. "But why?"

"I—I don't know," was all Daisuke could say.

Risa remained silent, staring at the scattered mess with her hand over her mouth.

"Come on," Riku said, casting the feathers a wary glance before turning to Daisuke. "Where's his bedroom?"

"Oh, right." Daisuke hurried past Risa and towards a small hallway, Riku in his wake. Risa, however, stayed behind, too stunned to even hear them leave.

"They're…white…" she whispered to herself, remembering the feather that fell from the jacket. "Why are they all white?"

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"Satoshi-san!"

Satoshi cringed even in sleep. He hated hearing his name. For some odd and obscure reason, he hated hearing his name.

There was another loud bang, but this time it was much closer and much, much louder.

"Satoshi-san!"

With a cruel effort, Satoshi opened his eyes and looked towards the doorway to his bedroom. His vision was slightly blurred, but he could make out two figures standing within the doorframe. The first one, slightly taller than the second, was crowned with unruly, flaming hair and was the owner of the frantic scream. The second, smaller and slender, was clutching onto the door frame and staring at him with wide eyes. Satoshi almost felt like smiling in amusement.

Niwa and Harada to the rescue.

"Satoshi-san!" Daisuke ran in and dropped to his side, bending over him. Satoshi somehow always found it hard to look directly into those eyes, especially now when they were filled with pity and sympathy. Pity and sympathy for him. Two things he never accepted from anyone.

"Niwa-kun, is he alright? He looks awful." Older Harada had come up from behind Niwa and was peering down at him too. It was a bit awkward, seeing such a brave girl as her cower at the sight of fatigue and agony in another human being. Satoshi nearly felt accomplished, being able to make Riku Harada scared just by lying in pain.

Daisuke frowned. "He's really beat up and it doesn't look like he's tended to any of his injuries in the last four days."

Four days? Niwa must not have been thinking straight. The battle at the museum had only happened last night and he had only a few hours of sleep since then. He wouldn't have been so careless as to not take care of himself for four days.

"Will you help me lift him into a sitting position?" Daisuke asked Riku, and she nodded. Satoshi tried to protest and tell them he could do it himself, but nothing came from his throat as he opened his mouth to speak. His voice was far too tired to come out and his body had not even begun to recuperate yet.

He was worse off than he thought.

There was a tightening grasp on his arms and Satoshi noticed that Riku had taken hold of his wrists and was hoisting him up. Daisuke leveled him in a sitting position and let him lean against the wall. He groaned. The position did nothing for his broken bones.

"Hiwatari-san, can you talk? Are you alright?"

Riku shook her head, bending down to look into his eyes. Satoshi tried to lean away, unused to the close proximity with a girl. "I don't think he can talk, Niwa-kun. He's probably been asleep for these four days, so his vocal chords aren't working right yet."

Asleep for four days? Had he really been out for that long!

"Wh—what…what are y-you…" Speaking truly was an effort. His throat had been stripped raw and he could barely breath without a stabbing pain in his chest. "What are you doing here?" he rasped, sucking in the air around him. He wrapped an arm across his torso, trying to ignore the jolt of fire that came from his broken ribs.

Daisuke looked confused. "We were worried about you. You haven't been to school for four days so we decided to come check up on you."

"Y—you didn't…didn't have to," he answered.

Riku shook her head. "Yes, we did. Niwa-kun is your friend, Hiwatari-san. He wanted to come and make sure that you were all right."

Satoshi looked over to her and then at Daisuke. Having Niwa by him was fine; he'd come to understand the concepts of friendship and his own caring for the boy. But having yet _another_ person who worried about his welfare was nearly overwhelming. It wasn't just the fact that it was a girl, because he had had enough of girls following him around everywhere and staring at him. More over, it was the fact that it was someone other than Niwa; someone who worried about him and wanted to be his friend simply because she _wanted_ to worry about him and be his friend.

"Niwa-kun? Riku? Where are you?" Someone was calling from the hall outside. All three of them looked up to see Risa peek tentatively around the doorframe. Satoshi nearly blanched. Daisuke being in his apartment was unexpected but accepted, Riku being in his apartment was unexpected and in the process of being accepted, but Risa being there too? It was just too awkward and, frankly, starting to get a little crowded.

"Risa--," Riku started to say, but was cut off.

"Oh my goodness, Hiwatari-san!" Obviously seeing someone as beat up as Satoshi was at that moment was new to younger Harada. She jumped out from behind the frame and hurried toward him, kneeling next to her sister. "What happened? You look horrible…and you're bleeding!" She pointed to a red spot that had dripped onto his bed sheets. He shrugged. It was probably from the gash on his back.

"I'm alright, really," he whispered.

"No, you're not," Daisuke countered. He looked up at Riku. "Riku-san, could you please make Hiwatari-san something to eat? He won't get better unless he has something in his stomach." Riku smiled and nodded.

"No problem, Niwa-kun. Don't worry, Hiwatari-san. I'll make you something simple so it'll go down easier." She got up from his bed and headed back out to the hall. Risa continued to look at him with such a liberal amount of pity that he had to look away from her. It made him slightly sick.

"We need to bandage you up, Hiwatari-san, so do you think you could sit up on your own?" Daisuke's words were polite but his tone was solid. Satoshi nodded and pushed himself off the wall, ignoring the burning in his side.

"Careful, Hiwatari-san. Don't move too fast." Risa rested her hands on his shoulders to steady him and all his muscles tensed at the contact. The feel of her hands on his bare skin was foreign and awkward, and he did not like it at all.

But, then again, he wasn't really in any shape to dismiss help.

"I think he has some broken bones and we need to secure them so they can heal properly. Would you help me with this, Harada-san?" Daisuke handed her a roll of bandages and she nodded. Satoshi simply sat quietly and let them do their good deed for the day.

"Is that better?" Daisuke asked. Satoshi sat up straighter and arched his back. The pain in his side was still there, but the bandages helped keep the bones from shifting and lessened it to nothing but a dull ache.

"Yes, it's much better. Thank you." He relaxed once again. He sat on the edge of his bed, Daisuke to his left and younger Harada to his right, with his elbows resting lazily on his knees and his head bowed forward. It was easier to breathe this way and it allowed the other two to commence with their nursing. Aside from binding his middle they had splinted his wrist and salved most of his bruises. He didn't like having them attend to him but he had no other choice.

"This one looks really bad," Risa said. She had moved to sit behind him and was looking at his back. He glanced back at her, waiting. "It's not deep, but it's big. We need to clean it properly first. Niwa-kun, can you get a disinfectant for me?"

"Yeah, sure. Hiwatari-san, where's your bathroom?"

He looked out of his door. "Down the hall to your right."

"Thanks." Daisuke quickly got up from his seat and hurried out, leaving Risa behind. Satoshi frowned. He didn't particularly like being left alone with only Risa Harada as his companion.

"This is such a long gash, Hiwatari-san. How did you get it?" she suddenly asked. He sighed. Could he really answer her truthfully? Could he really say that it was a product of an airborne fight between his alter ego and her beloved Phantom Thief Dark?

"I fell."

He knew it was a feeble excuse, but it was the simplest and vaguest he could come up with.

"Does it hurt?" she continued. He was about to answer when a chill ran up his spine. She was tracing the outline of his wound with her finger, sending an electric charge all through his back. The sensation surprised him and he didn't like it. He quickly stood up and moved away from her, disregarding his bodily limitations.

"No, it doesn't," he lied. He turned away from her and headed for his closet. His half-nakedness made him self-conscious, so he quickly donned a black shirt, loose enough so that it wouldn't disturb his bandages. He slipped his arms in and moved to pull it over his head, but the motion taxed his sore body and he groaned involuntarily. Risa, who had been watching silently and meagerly, jumped up to help him.

"You know, you don't have to do everything yourself," she said, matter-of-factly. She helped him pull the shirt over his head and straightened it gingerly over his middle. Satoshi stared down at her, wondering where this sudden burst of kindness had come from. Risa glanced back up at him and smiled. "Your glasses are crooked." She reached up and leveled them. Satoshi lifted his chin and stared down at her.

"Thank you," he said again, and moved away. He let his eyes wander about the room, looking anywhere other than at Harada. He took at his bed, sent askew with rumpled sheets and strewn bandages, his cell phone, lying in pieces near the far wall, and Niwa and Harada's book bags, each one resting innocently beside the door…

His blood ran cold. There, peeking out of Harada's bag, was the white sleeve of his jacket, the same one he had given to her four nights ago. His mind began racing with panicked questions: Did she know it was his? Did she see him at the museum with Dark? Did she see him at the museum as Krad!

But aside from that, another question surfaced: Why was she carrying it around in the first place?

--------

Risa watched him hesitate for a second before sitting back down on the bed and bowing his head so that his eyes were obscured by his hair. She thought it strange that it occurred to her now, but she never noticed how submissive Hiwatari could seem at times. Not that he was weak in any way; he always seemed to have control over everything that happened in his life. But there was also the quiet obedience he had about him and the extreme amount of patience. He could easily scare away every girl who ever stalked him with just a few words in his icy tone, but he let them be, conversing with them only if their presence was absolutely not needed. He could have declined from the play and his part to play Dark, (which he obviously disliked), but he took the role quietly and without retort.

And even that time when he asked her for help, something about femininity, she wasn't sure anymore, but he had done it so calmly and without demand, and had even taken off his glasses when she requested it even though it made him extremely dizzy.

If Risa thought about it, Hiwatari could be a very kind, humble person. Certainly not all the time, but he wasn't cruel. Probably just a bad case of being misunderstood.

"Hiwatari-san," she started softly, not wanting to surprise him. He looked up languidly and stared at her. Maybe it was the ice-blue of his eyes, but there was always an uncomfortable feeling when Satoshi looked at someone directly. She swallowed. "Hiwatari-san, why do you live alone? Why don't you live with your family?" She knew she was prying. She was always prying. But, for some reason, she just had to know.

Satoshi held her gaze a split second longer before breaking the contact and falling backward onto his mattress. He flinched as he laid down, hissing between his teeth because of his back, but he relaxed just as quickly. Risa had to fight the urge not to rush to his side.

"I don't have a family anymore."

Her jaw nearly dropped. "You don't have a family?" she asked helplessly. "How could you not have a family--,"

"I don't have a family…other than my father. But he lives in a mansion outside of town. He works long hours and is hardly ever home, and his property is too far away from school for me to travel to every single day. So I stay here, in my own apartment in town. I can go to school easily and work at my part-time job without too much hassle." He stretched his legs out. "It's a better arrangement. For everybody."

Risa continued to watch his lounging form, wondering. What was it like for him, coming home to an empty apartment each day? Sitting in his living room, alone, and watching TV by himself? Or going to bed at night without another presence in the entire apartment? He hardly spent time with anybody at school either, so were his days filled with nothing but himself? No friends, no family, no nothing. It was horrible, depressing, pathetic…but it oddly did not degrade Hiwatari in any way.

Risa suddenly realized that despite the years they had spent together as classmates, she knew almost nothing about him.

"Don't you ever get lonely?"

Satoshi tensed. Risa clamped her hand against her mouth. It was such a personal, intimate question that required such a personal and intimate answer, but it had simply come pouring out of her mouth. She hadn't meant to say it, only think it. "I'm so sorry," she squeaked, bowing her head in apology. "I didn't mean to be so rude."

Hiwatari didn't move. He just laid there, staring avidly at the ceiling. But his fists were unknowingly clenched at his sides and his breathing had become shallow. "Harada-san--,"

"Forgive me, Hiwatari-san. I'll leave you alone and go help my sister," she suddenly burst out, and then turned her back and fled from the room feeling completely embarrassed and also completely disheartened.


	2. Two Pillars Made of Ice and Snow

Chapter Two -- Two Pillars Made Of Ice and Snow

Satoshi stepped out onto the sidewalk, schoolbooks held tightly in his left hand and a brand new cell phone, (compliments of a stern lecturing from his father), resting quietly in his pocket. He looked up. The black limo was waiting for him, as usual.

"Not today," he said quietly to his father's personal chauffeur. "I'm walking to school."

The black-clad man frowned. "But, Hiwatari-dono…"

"I said I'm walking." He glanced back and waited for another retort. But the man simply bowed monotonously and slipped back into the car.

"As you wish, Hiwatari-dono."

Satoshi waited, eyes closed. After a few seconds the rumbling of a car engine could be heard and then the soft din of a car passing by. He opened his eyes. The black limo was slowly disappearing down the street and out of sight.

He started off once again. To be honest, it wasn't very smart for him to be walking anywhere. It had only been a mere day since Niwa and the Haradas' had visited him, and his body had barely begun to heal. But lying motionless for nearly fives days was beginning to seem tedious, and the movement was humbly welcomed.

Satoshi walked alone for a few minutes, slowly coming to appreciation the valuable time. It was peaceful so early in the morning, and he relished in the cherished silence. It was a silence he had experienced on a daily bases, but he still enjoyed it.

To an extent, at least.

He glanced to his left and noticed the sparkling sea, glistening with the morning sun. Only a short, wooden fence separated the sidewalk from the rocky shore, and the morning sea breeze could be felt wafting in from the waves. It lifted his hair and filled the air with its salty, fresh scent. Such a relaxing sensation.

"Oh no, Riku!"

"Sorry, Risa. I wasn't paying attention."

Voices came breaking through his daze and Satoshi's hand instinctively shot out, snatching at some foreign object in the air. He brought his arm and down and saw that he held a pink, silk ribbon in his hand. He had seen it out of the corner of his eye, dancing lazily on the morning breeze, and it had threatened to fly out to sea before he caught it.

"Hey, that's mine!"

Satoshi turned around to see Risa Harada's exasperated form come running toward him. When she saw who held her ribbon she slowed down the tiniest bit and stopped short of Satoshi.

"Hiwatari-san," she said, sounding surprised to see him. He held the ribbon out to her.

"Yours?" he prompted. She reached out a tentative hand and took it from him.

"Thank you," she said, quickly tying her hair up. She smiled. "I thought it was lost forever. How did you learn to move so fast?" she asked. Satoshi merely shrugged. Risa laughed. "You know, the way you did it just then reminded me of Dark."

He frowned. "I'm no Dark," he answered icily. _More his opposite_, he thought to himself. He watched the girl as she gingerly pulled the ribbon into a bow in her hair. He had never been able to understand why Risa, or any girl for that matter, could ever like a phantom thief. Especially one as immoral, vague, and flirtatious as Dark.

"Risa!" It was Riku, sitting astride her bike with her bag slung over one shoulder. She glided up to them smoothly and pushed the brake, stopping right next to Satoshi. "Good morning, Hiwatari-san," she said politely, smiling at him. He simply nodded in recognition. It was weird, being trapped between the two Harada twins, both being so different and yet still looking alike. He wasn't sure how Daisuke was able to hang around with them and not feel oddly out of place.

"It was lucky Hiwatari-san was here, Riku, or else I wouldn't have gotten my ribbon back," Risa said to her sister, sticking her tongue out at her playfully. "You should be more careful next time."

Riku rolled her eyes. "I'm so sorry, dear sister. Silly of me not to hold on to your books, your bag, and your ribbon all at once without complaint." She smirked and stuck her tongue out as well. "All the same, thank you, Hiwatari-san."

Satoshi shook his head, unused to so much gratitude. "Believe me, it was nothing." He turned away from them and continued to make his solitary way to school. But what he hadn't counted on was the Harada twins automatically joining him on his journey. And, sure enough, it wasn't long before Riku kept a steady pace beside him on her bike and Risa had fallen into step with him on his left.

He sighed. So much for a peaceful walk.

"So how are you feeling?" Riku asked him, keeping her eyes ahead of her. Satoshi shrugged.

"Fine, I guess."

"Did you sleep well after we left yesterday?"

He bowed his head down to hide his eyes. Yes, he slept well…as well as a person could sleep when they were constantly plagued by nightmares of Krad, dark magic, and power ripping at their body. "Yes. Fine."

Risa bent down to catch his eyes but he turned away from her. "Should you be walking to school in your condition? You were barely able to sit up on your own yesterday; I don't think you should overdo it so soon."

He minutely quickened his pace. "I'm fine. Sitting at home won't help me regain my strength." As he said this he unconsciously flexed his left hand, loosening the stiff muscles under his splint.

Riku's pleasant smile immediately brightened and she lifted a hand to wave avidly at someone far ahead of them. "Niwa-kun," she called, beaming. Satoshi looked up. A block ahead of them stood Daisuke, a lop-sided grin on his face, and his bright hair blowing in the morning wind. He waved lazily in return as he waited for them.

"Wow, Niwa-san is early this morning," Risa commented.

Riku turned to her sister. "I'm going to ride ahead, Risa. I need to talk to him about something." And, without waiting for an answer, she pushed forward and glided up the street.

"Well, that was rude," Risa commented sarcastically. She turned back to Satoshi. "She's helping make Niwa-san's costume for the play, but I think she's having trouble altering it for him," she explained. "Which reminds me, Saehara-san changed the script again. Niwa-san said that the role of Dark wasn't portrayed properly, and that he was too soft. I agreed with him, so Saehara-san had to rewrite the script. A lot of your lines have been changed." She swung her bag to her front and began digging through it. "I have it here, somewhere."

Satoshi looked down at her. "Why do you have my script?"

"I told him I'd give it to you," was the nonchalant reply.

"Why?"

Risa shrugged. "I don't know. I just said I would. Now, where is it?"

They had reached the corner and were about to cross the street. "Careful, Harada-san," he warned. She wasn't paying attention to him and continued walking.

"Hmm? I thought it was in this pocket…"

"Harada-san," he repeated, looking up the street at the approaching car. "Be. Careful."

"Found it! Here—ow!" She stumbled over the edge of the sidewalk, not watching where she was going. Satoshi, noticing the car out of the corner of his eye, darted forward, snatched Risa by her wrist and pulled her close to his body as he swung back. The car glided effortlessly past them on the street, right over the spot where Risa would have fallen. Satoshi closed his eyes, sighing. That was far too close.

"I told you to be careful," he said to her, almost scolding. "You need to pay better attention to your surroundings."

Risa remained quiet, her head bowed down. She was facing Satoshi, the top of her head barely grazing his chin, and her body was trembling under his protective arm wrapped around her shoulders.

He looked up, checking the road. "It's clear now." He slowly dropped his arm and started to take half a step back when he was slightly halted by something. He looked down. She was gripping the front of his shirt in both of her hands. "Harada-san?" he prompted. There was a momentary pause before she slowly loosened her grip.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, stepping back from him. Satoshi cocked an eyebrow, slightly perturbed by her meek behavior, before bending down and picking up her book bag where it had fallen on the cobblestones. "That was just…just a little scary," she answered, laughing meagerly and finally looking up at him. "I get weak in the knees when things like that happen." She took the bag from him and slung it over her shoulder.

"Understandable," he answered, gently. He stepped onto the road. "Come on. We're going to be late." He turned forward and strode across the way, reaching the other side in only a few strides. He glanced back. Risa was still on the opposite corner, nervously stuffing something that had fallen out of her bag back into its leather depths.

"I'm coming," she called. She closed the flap and, quickly glancing both ways, started running towards him. Satoshi turned his back on her but waited silently, listening for her footsteps to fall in next to his.

_So, the solitary Hikari seeks a companion,_ a voice whispered quietly in his head. Satoshi's brow furrowed in agitation. _Flying solo no longer, tamer. And such a pretty girl, too. _There was a low laugh. _First the boy and now this girl. Maybe you wish for me to come out more often. _

Satoshi's fingers tightened around his books and he started walking, carefully placing one foot firmly in front of the other. Behind him Risa started to call his name to wait, but he ignored her.

"Go away, Krad."

Another low rumble of laughter. _Don't get soft on me now, Satoshi._

He ran his hand through his hair, speeding up. "Leave it alone. She's no one."

--------

Risa dug viciously through her bag, oblivious to her surroundings. "Now, where is it?" she muttered to herself, pushing her papers and notebooks aside. Honestly, Riku had always pestered her to organize her things, but she never seemed to get around to it. She sighed.

"Careful, Harada-san." Satoshi's tone was even, as usual.

"Hmm?" She opened one of her pockets. No script. "I thought it was in this pocket…" She peeked into a folder. Nothing. She peeked into another. Still nothing.

"Harada-san. Be. Careful." He sounded like he was behind her, but she could have sworn they were walking side by side. She checked inside her notebook and, sure enough, there was the script held snug between her language notes.

"Found it," she announced, starting to pull it out. "Here--…" But of course, her natural clumsiness kicked in, and she lost her footing on the curb. There was a split second where she dreaded the oncoming sting of her contact with the stone ground before she saw a flash of light on metal. A car. Coming up the street. Straight for her.

Her mind went momentarily blank.

Then fingers closed tightly around her wrist and she was forcibly yanked backward as the oncoming vehicle whizzed past. She pressed her face into cloth, her fingers tightening on linen. There was a shiver down her body. She had almost been hit. What a stupid thing to do.

What a terrifying thing it would have been.

She sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her head was soon swimming with the lofty scent that reminded her of the cool night air entertwined with fresh cotton.

Her fingers tightened their hold. Night air and cotton. Just like the jacket. Just like…Dark's jacket?

"I told you to be careful," came the low rumble above her head. She flinched at the icy comment. Yes, he had told her to be careful, but she had been too preoccupied to listen to him. Mix that with her natural clumsiness and she was a dangerous companion. "You need to pay better attention to your surroundings."

She nodded, intending to step back and thank him for saving her. But when she did she was stopped by something. She looked up from his shirt and felt her cheeks flush with heat. He had his arm around her, holding her tightly while he checked the street. She bowed her head again to hide the blush. He should have let her go already. He should not have been so _close_ to her.

But why was she blushing? Besides the fact that she had to agree that he was best looking boy in school, Satoshi had never sparked her interest. She wasn't favorable to boys with glasses, and his isolated attitude had always caused her to think him a bit snobbish.

_But it's not like it's his fault,_ she reasoned to herself. _He's lived alone for so long…maybe he's just used to being independent._

But it wasn't as though that reasoning helped her! Here she was, standing on the street corner with Satoshi Hiwatari, clutching to his shirt with his arm around her. And she didn't even like him!

_He's not Dark,_ she told herself, conjuring the mental image of Dark flying through the starry sky with his jet black wings. _He's anyone but Dark. And I love Dark_.

"It's clear now." She felt his arm slip away. She sighed. Good, that's how it should have been. "Harada-san…?"

She looked up. Her fingers were still twisted into the fabric of his shirt, holding him still. Slowly and silently she let him go, the blush on her cheeks deepening with every passing moment. "I'm sorry," she answered, searching for anything to be said at the moment. She dropped her hands to her sides. "That was just…just a little scary." Which was true…for both situations. "I get weak in the knees when things like that happen." And she meant the car only.

She noticed that he was holding out her bag for her and she took it from him.

"Understandable," was his usual monotone answer. He turned away from her and started walking once again. "Come on. We're going to be late."

She checked her watch. Yes, they were. She gripped the strap of her bag and was about to walk after him when something far too white caught her eye on the ground below her. She glanced down and saw a single, gleaming white feather lying at her feet.

In one swift, quick motion she swooped down and snatched it in her fist, quickly stuffing it into her bag. It must have fallen out when Hiwatari pulled her back. She closed her eyes. It was a good thing that she noticed it, or it would have been left behind.

She only prayed that Satoshi had not seen it.

She looked up. He was already waiting for her on the opposite side of the street. "I'm coming!" she called cheerfully, hooking the latch on her bag. She scanned the street once and, when she was absolutely positive that there were no cars, started across at a steady run. When she looked up again she saw Satoshi's retreating back as he made his way to school without her.

"Hiwatari-san! Hiwatari-san!" She called out his name, but he wasn't listening to her. He kept on walking, his long strides taking him farther than she could catch up with. She started to slow down her run, falling even farther behind. "Hiwatari-san?" Still no answer.

She frowned and continued on her way at a leisurely walk. The cold Hiwatari had returned as if he hadn't been kind before in his life. Fine. She could deal with that.

She didn't like boys with glasses anyway.

--------

A/N: Sorry nothing really happens in this chapter, but I promise that the storyline will pick up in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!


	3. And On Into The Passing Days

Chapter Three – And On Into The Passing Days…

Usually he didn't mind school so much. The tedious lectures and repetitive lessons could easily be blocked out by a moderately interesting novel or a scan of his research notes. The usual monotony of his school day could always be hazed over by mental procedures and tactics to capture Dark or protect yet another Hikari masterpiece. Even the daily discovery of a note tucked into his desk containing yet another confession of deepest love and admiration could be dismissed with simple arrogance and a blunt answer of 'no'. He usually didn't mind school so much.

Keyword there being 'usually'.

But after walking in after leaving Risa by herself, getting scolded by Saehara for his four day absence, finding a cornucopia of love letters clogging his desk, and discovering that sitting down was more painful than it seemed, Satoshi began to truly loath the wearisome day with a vengeance. Spending another twenty-four hours lying motionless on his bed began to look incredibly welcoming.

Near mid-morning Saehara had taken over the class and rehearsal for the play was inevitable. Risa, who had slipped into the room three minutes late, seemed to have taken his abandonment to heart, which meant that he would have to find a copy of his revised script from another source. Luckily, that source was Daisuke.

He had been lounging at the back of the classroom, leaning against the back wall and watching Takeshi argue with some of the girls about his costume. The Harada twins were arguing about Niwa's costume, and the rest of the class seemed to be arguing with each other for no apparent reason at all. The rising crescendo of their voices was slowly giving him a headache.

"Satoshi-san." He looked up to see a script shoved into his vision. "That's from Harada-san." Satoshi took it from Daisuke's offering hand.

"Thank you."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, worried. "Aren't you still tired?"

"No," was the automatic reply. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

The redhead blushed uncomfortably and shook his head. "No, not at all, it was Harada-san and Riku-san. They were the ones who really helped you. I just did what they told me to do." He scratched his head thoughtfully, looking at him with wondering eyes. "I guess I never thought about it before, but I…well---I guess I wanted to ask you…er…"

"Yes?"

He stammered nervously. "Well, I don't think I ever really thought about it before, but when Dark was hurt or I was hurt, Dark would use some of his magic to heal us both. I just…I mean, doesn't Krad heal just as easily? So wouldn't he help heal you?"

Satoshi remained blank face and guarded, keeping the scowl from his features. "We don't have that kind of understanding," he said coldly, knowing that Krad was listening and, frankly, not caring.

The smaller boy frowned. "Oh. Sorry." He dropped his eyes to the floor, apparently in shame but, more likely, in sympathy. Sympathy because he had something that Satoshi didn't, and Satoshi didn't appreciate it.

Desperate for a subject change he referred back to the script in his hands. "Is this the new version?" he asked, conversationally. His head told him that he simply wanted to stop Niwa from looking so pathetic, but a deeper, more human part of him knew that he simply didn't like being the cause of Daisuke's sadness.

The other boy lifted his head cheerfully, just as was intended, and nodded. He sat on top of a desk in front of him so he would be on eye level. Satoshi never realized how tall he was on the average. "Sorry, but a lot of your lines have been changed," Daisuke told him. "Some of us thought that Dark was portrayed as too…er…soft."

Satoshi flipped through the pages but stopped short at the remark, glancing up. "Some of us?" he asked. Daisuke shrugged.

"A few."

"A fair few?"

He smiled. "A selected few."

Satoshi resumed flipping the pages, sighing. "How selected?"

"Mostly one."

He closed his eyes, hiding the expression with a bow of his head. "So, the Phantom Thief doesn't appreciate a tame perspective of himself?"

Daisuke laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah, well, I thought I might do him the favor of suggesting some changes."

Satoshi nodded but inwardly felt the strong pang of dislike he had always had for Dark and the fact that his symbiotic relationship with Daisuke could not be mirrored between him and Krad.

He opened the script to a page near the end and scanned the contents. He frowned profusely. "This says that Dark returns to his village and Freedert by flying in on his wings." His blue eyes met Daisuke's red ones. "I'm flying?"

Daisuke smiled helplessly, holding his hands up in surrender. "It was Saehara-san's idea, not mine."

"Niwa-kun!"

Both Daisuke and Satoshi looked to the front of the room where Riku was waving for Daisuke, his costume clutched tightly in her other arm. "Yes, Riku-san?"

"I need you to try this on again before we rehearse."

Daisuke moaned audibly, slipping off the desk's top and sauntering lazily down the aisle. "Do I have to?" he complained, casting the dress a fearful look. Riku simply nodded and held it out to him. Satoshi remained at his spot on the wall, looking through the script in his hands.

"Hiwatari-san, would you like to rehearse in costume too?" one of the girls asked. A number of them giggled excitedly, but Satoshi had learned to block them out long ago.

He slipped off his glasses and cleaned them delicately on the front of his shirt. "No," was all he said. Some of the girls…okay, he had to admit, _all_ the girls groaned loudly.

"Hiwatari-san, please?"

"We just want to make sure it fits right!"

"You need to practice moving in it."

"Just for a while, then you can take it off."

"Please!"

Someone held out the black garments for him. He looked up and saw girls all around him, eyes wide and pleading, waiting for his answer. Riku wasn't among them because she had gone to help Daisuke. Risa was no where to be seen.

Not that he had been looking for her.

He sighed, placing his glasses back on his face. Why had he come to school? Why hadn't he stayed in bed, seemingly dead to the world, where he was safe from adolescent nuisances such as these?

He rolled his script up and stuck it in his back pocket, taking the clothes in one hand. "Give me a moment," he replied, deadpan, walking through the queue of girls towards the door. All of them squealed.

"Thank you, Hiwatari-san," was the last thing he heard before he closed the door behind him. He leaned his back against the door. The hallway was empty, housing a welcoming silence. It was a good thing, too. No one could see him wince as he wrapped his arm around his middle. His body was still sore, and all movement was a strain to him.

It seemed that, on that particular day, nothing was dealing in his favor.

--------

Risa walked leisurely through the hallway, taking her sweet time to gaze thoughtfully out the school windows. A gentle breeze grazed the tops of the trees and the sun cast the entire courtyard in a golden glow. She grinned, imagining the entire scene doused in night, with Dark's wings flashing past to carry him to his next target.

Her heart pounded audibly in her ears. What she wouldn't give to see Dark again.

She shifted the weight of script copies in her arms so they wouldn't get tired. She hated physical labor of any kind, which was probably why Takeshi was surprised when she volunteered for the errand of printing the copies. But she would have done anything to get out of the room, first and foremost before Daisuke and Satoshi started rehearsing.

She couldn't stand Hiwatari at the moment.

It had been so rude of him to just leave her behind on the sidewalk. Hardly a backward glance or a wave of the hand had come her way. It had been the most frigid cold shoulder she had ever experienced.

But what probably pained her more was the thought that he wasn't as distant as he made himself to appear. He had been civil to her through the majority of the morning and had even saved her from a very nasty accident. Her true scope of him went as far as to see him in his most vulnerable of appearances, lying weak and ruined on his bed in an empty apartment.

Satoshi Hiwatari could be just as human as the rest of them. So that meant that he wasn't just a cold-hearted, blank-faced bastard who snubbed everyone. He was just a cold-heated, blank-faced bastard who snubbed _her_.

And Risa never took well to anyone who snubbed her.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she rounded a corner, carefully balancing the copies in her hands. When she looked up she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and shocked. All sound drained from her surroundings to the point where she could barely hear herself breathe. A sweet electric excitement shot out from her chest and extended all the way to the tips of her fingers. Stars clouded over her eyes.

There, slipping out of the boy's locker room, black garments hanging on his lithe frame and purple hair spilling over his eyes, was Dark. Dark, with his shoulders thrown back in the posture that spoke of pure command over everything he did; Dark, who was tall and lean and agile in his frame; Dark with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he sauntered out of the locker room.

Her Dark.

She watched in perplexed admiration at his profile, his person too far for her to see his face, let alone the amethyst eyes she had fallen for. The curious thoughts in her head swam about in a flurry of questions, wondering what he was doing in the boy's locker room, wondering what he was doing in her school, and wondering what he was doing in daylight at all. But the other thoughts, the ones consumed in her love for Dark, simply loved the fact that he was there at all.

She beamed, despite her earlier bad mood, and started to walk towards him before she stopped short again. She looked down at herself. She was in her very unattractive school uniform, script copies piled high in front of her face, with black ink from the copier staining her hands. She blushed furiously. She couldn't possibly let Dark see her in such a way!

With one more wistful glance at the Phantom Thief, Risa quickly backed away, hiding behind the corner and away from sight. She suppressed a squeal that threatened to escape from her lips.

With a deep breath to still her heart, she hurried away to the girl's bathroom to wash up.

At the very least she had gotten to see him. Gotten the chance to see her beloved Dark.

--------

Satoshi stepped out of the boy's locker room, feeling completely and utterly ridiculous. There he was, dressed to look exactly like the criminal he had focused his life on capturing. And it wasn't simple dress-up; it went far beyond that. The girls had actually spent time and labor on making him look exactly like the Phantom Thief.

The black shirt with the wretched up-turned collar, the loose belt hanging on his hips, the onyx trousers meant for agility while stealing, and the horrible wig to finish it off. In every aspect, they had transformed him into Dark.

And he loathed it.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, standing there. He didn't want to go back to the classroom and to all the squeals and jeers he would receive. He didn't want to be in the play. He didn't want to be stuck in the semi-awkward position of facing Daisuke dressed as a girl.

He leaned back, scowling. There had to be a limit to how much a person could hate their own life.

A flash of movement caught his eyes and he turned to his right, staring down the hallway.

There was no one there.

He could have sworn he had seen someone, or something, down that way. He dismissed the thought, pulled the script from his pocket and headed towards the classroom.

--------

Risa slipped quietly into the classroom, her hair now tamed, her hands unstained, and the mountainous pile of script copies resting in her arms. She could hear Daisuke and Satoshi already rehearsing, but the large crowd at the front of the classroom obscured them from her vision. She shrugged. It wasn't as though she cared to see Niwa playing a girl or Satoshi portraying Dark in his bland monotone. It had attracted her interest in the beginning, but now, and especially after all that happened today, she didn't care too much about it.

She made her way to the back of the room and deposited her load on her desk, halfway listening to the rehearsal and halfway daydreaming about Dark standing in the hallway, only now he was standing outside her balcony window at night.

"You can't go, Dark. No matter what you say a war is still a war. You'll leave…and you won't come back." Daisuke sounded as though he was actually trying today. Well, at least he wasn't choking like he usually did. Risa smiled and sat down at her desk, pulling the pile of scripts towards her. She took out her stapler and began the tedious work of compiling the papers into booklets while she continued to listen and daydream. She could almost hear the quiet rustle of feathers and flight casting shadows on her bedroom walls.

"Freedert." A murmur of girlish giggling followed the smooth tenor of Satoshi's voice. "You mean everything to me, truly. But there are certain factors in my life that I cannot ignore. Before anything else, I am a Phantom Thief."

Yes, he was a Phantom Thief. A thief that could throw her balcony doors wide open to the evening wind. Risa finished another booklet and placed it in its pile.

"A Phantom Thief whose only purpose is to steal! Is that all this was to you? Another job, another mission? Steal the heart of a petty village girl and then leave?"

"You know it's nothing like that…"

But it was. It was, no matter how many times Risa tried to deny it. He had stolen her heart, captivated her every interest. But never once had he shown her the affection she so longingly craved. But that didn't matter. He called her now, through her wafting drapes, and she rose out of her bed to meet him, her nightgown billowing behind her and dancing at her ankles.

"How can you look at me and say that, Dark?"

"Because it is true."

"No, it isn't. I say it now with all my heart; I love you, Dark. I love you, and I ask you now not to leave me."

She clicked the stapler one more time, frowning. She would have given anything to ask Dark to never leave her; to give up his thieving and stay with her forever. But to do so would be to strip him of the very thing she had fallen for in the first place. To give up his thieving would be to give up the one thing that made him himself. It was foolish for Freedert to ask something so selfish as that, and she cursed Saehara for his lack of sensitivity.

"I can't do that."

Of course he couldn't.

"Why not?"

She couldn't blame Freedert. Risa would have asked the same thing as she stepped through her drapes and out onto the balcony.

"Because I can't give up who I am."

Because she loved him simply because of who he was.

"Not even for me?"

The same words she would have used as she reached for him.

"Not even for love."

What a cruel way of saying it, Dark!

A pause. "Will you think of me?" came Daisuke's minute whisper. There was a sigh.

"You know I will."

"Every passing minute?"

"And on into the passing days."

Yet another dramatic pause. "Come back to me, Dark."

"Now, this is where Dark's black wings rise up from behind him!" Takeshi had cut in, narrating the look and feel of the scene for the class. Risa listened to his narration avidly, envisioning twin towers of jet black feathers emerging before her. "They glisten in the sunset of the hill, the last Freedert and Dark will see of each other."

They glisten, yes, but not in the sunset. They glisten with the light from her bedroom, shadowed and brilliant.

"Then Dark takes Freedert's hand--take Daisuke's hand…Hiwatari, take his hand. Hiwatari-san! There, good. And then, Dark's wings will flap once…"

Once would be enough to send a whirl of wind to sweep across her face, lifting him inches from the parapet to hover in the air. Her hand would be grasped in his as he tugged her up with him.

"…before both are lifted up into the air…"

The cool, night air…

"…and Dark wraps her in his arms…"

…a warm embrace…

"…and then they are encased in his black wings…"

…a haven of soft, glittering white wings…

"…and that's the end of the first act!"

Takeshi slammed his fist into a desktop creating a disruptive bang that shocked Risa out of her daydream. She dropped her stapler and nearly knocked over the pile of finished scripts as she scrambled for her composure. Stupid Saehara, ruining her fantasy.

"All right everyone, we got through that last scene without any accidents, but it needs to be more intense! This is Dark and Freedert's last moment together; we have to make it beautiful so that everyone's heart will be crushed when Freedert first dies!"

Daisuke yelped. "Ow! Takeshi-kun! You hit me!"

"Sorry Daisuke-bozu; I was getting excited. Okay people, from the top of this scene!"

Risa picked her stapler off the floor and put it away, the remains of her daydream lingering in her mind. She gathered the new script booklets and began walking amongst her classmates, handing out the revised version. When she had only two left she realized that she had automatically steered clear of the main characters. She sighed, heading towards the front of the room hesitantly, but when she broke through the crowd to the empty space of the 'stage', she found only Daisuke standing awkwardly in a dress not meant for masculine wearers.

"Niwa-kun, is that your personal copy of the script?"

Daisuke looked over to her and shook his head. "No. I borrowed it from Takeshi-san." He reached out for one of the last two booklets held in her hands. "Thanks, Harada-san. Who's the other one for?"

She fiddled with the booklet, shrugging. "Hiwatari-san, in case he didn't get his already." She glanced around, seemingly without a purpose, but she couldn't find the silent lead anywhere. "Where is he, anyway? I thought you two were just rehearsing a few minutes ago." She stood on tiptoe and scanned the crowd but there was no crown of blue, or faux purple, to be seen.

"I think his cell phone rang. He's in the hall, taking the call." Daisuke started to take a step towards the door. "Why, do you need him? I could get him for you--,"

"No! No, don't bother yourself Niwa-kun," Risa injected, shaking her head. "I was just asking."

"Oh. Well, alright then." Daisuke smiled his clueless smile once more before Takeshi stepped up behind him to criticize his performance. Risa took it as her cue to leave and retreated to the back of the room once more. She sat back down at her desk, having nothing left to do, and tried to recall the last moments of her fantasy. She conjured the mental image of Dark once more, struggled with the parallel ideas of either black wings or white, cursed herself profoundly for even thinking of white wings, wondered where in the world white wings had come from, and swore against the white feather lying at the bottom of her bag before settling into a steady stream of mental pictures showing her in the arms of Dark as they both flew across the night sky.

And his wings were definitely black.

--------

Satoshi slid the door closed and leaned his back against it, slipping the wig off as he did so. He pulled his vibrating phone from the back pocket of his costume and glanced at the screen. A sharp pang of excitement flashed in his chest.

Detective Saehara.

He flipped open his phone and held the receiver up to his ear, his eyes wide and waiting. "Commander Hiwatari," he answered, although this time his voice had lowered with the anxiety of the chase. Saehara only called for one reason, and it was the one thing Satoshi waited for day after day.

"Commander, we've got another calling card. Looks like the Thief is after a sculpture called 'The Mystic's Dream'. Heard of it?"

Oh, yes, of course he had heard of it. It was a Hikari favorite; and Hikari favorites had a trend for being dangerous. "Yes, I have."

The detective coughed. "Well that's a load off. We've been calling up museum's all day trying to find the damn thing and we haven't hit a tangible source yet. Seems no respectable art historian has even heard of this one. Do you know where it is?"

That was not the proper question. The proper question was not whether he knew its whereabouts or not, but how did Dark know. "On the outskirts of town." And he gave no more than that. Saehara didn't seem satisfied, for he grunted with disapproval, but he said nothing to his remark.

"Oh, uh, good. That gives us a place to start. Do you want to head the frontal police force tonight?"

Satoshi smirked. "Not tonight, Detective. I'll be conducting my own protective forces on the artwork."

Saehara grunted again. "Well then, Commander, do you have any preferences for my men?"

"No."

An agitated cough. "Very good then, sir. The calling card said he'll come at nine."

"I'll be ready."

"Very good, sir."

There was a click and then the blunt dial tone. Satoshi closed the cell and slipped it back into his pocket. He pushed himself off the door and began striding towards the boy's locker room, a new found determination in his steps and a crazed smile grazing his lips.


	4. They Hadn't The Heart To Stay Or Go

**Chapter Four – They Hadn't The Heart To Stay Or Go**

"I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"It's okay. We'll finish the design tomorrow."

"Thanks, Risa-chan. I'll see you later!"

"Bye!" Risa waved as Ritsuko ran through the gates and into the blue car waiting for her. She closed the door and waved again through the window, this time alongside her mom who was smiling at Risa. She returned the smile. Within a few seconds, the car was gone. "Yeah, it's okay. I'll just…stay here. By myself. For another hour and half." It was hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she stood, seemingly useless, in the middle of the school courtyard.

She had told her sister to go on home without her and that she'd wait for Tabochi-san to pick her up later in the afternoon. Ritsuko had wanted to finish the set design for the play by the next day, and had persuaded Risa to stay at school for another hour or so. However, by the time Riku had ridden away, Ritsuko got a call from her mother saying that they had to pick her father up from the airport, and whisked Ritsuko away, leaving Risa alone with nothing to do until she was picked up.

"Maybe I'll call Riku," she muttered to herself, but immediately hated the idea. She didn't have a cell phone with her and the school office was on the other side of the campus. The walk would take a long time, and she tired out easily.

Risa swung her schoolbag idly, glancing around. There really wasn't much to do. Most of the sports teams had already finished practice for the day so there was no one on this side of the school; the only teachers left were those offering after school tutoring inside; the numerous clubs that met after school had been put on hiatus, allowing time for all the classes to prepare for the festival.

She sighed, groaning audibly in the deserted courtyard. "I should have just gone home with Riku in the first place," she whined out loud, before setting off in the direction of the office.

The sun had long since weighed to the west of the sky and the warm day had cooled down with the steady breeze washing in from the sea. Risa shivered involuntarily, rubbing her bare arms. If she'd known she was staying this late at school she would have worn her long sleeves instead.

Absently, and without thinking about it much, she pulled the white jacket from her bag and slipped it on. It was slightly big for her, being a boy's jacket, but she liked it fine. The sleeves spilled over her hands and it hung far below her waist, but it was soft and it kept her warm. Besides, she had become accustomed to its smell.

She walked on for another few minutes, falling into a slight stupor from the monotony of the motion, so that she didn't really notice where her feet were taking her. She soon came to one part of the school where the scenery had been made especially nice, with a few cherry blossom trees scattered about on an even, grassy plain. The pink blossoms always dazzled Risa, being so small and plentiful. Her awe of them soon pulled her away from the stone pathway to the office and onto the grassy stretch of trees where they rounded about the back side of the school. Smiling, she reached up and plucked a blossom off a low branch, breathing in its aroma. Some time, she hoped, she'd be able to bring Dark to the gardens downtown, where there was an entire grove of cherry blossom trees. He seemed like the kind of guy who appreciated beautiful things.

"Hey!" In the middle of her daydream the tiny wind had lifted the blossom from her hands and swirled it in the air before her, making it dance out of her reach. "No, give it back!" She chased the renegade flower, snatching at it with no such luck. The breeze took it far out onto the plain and then around the corner of the school, where the grass pushed up directly to the brick building. Risa ran after it and turned the corner.

"Ow!"

She landed on the grassy earth, her bag flying out of her hand for the second time that day. Slightly disoriented and a little annoyed, she glanced up at whatever it was that she had run into. She frowned.

Hiwatari. Naturally.

It seemed that no matter who you were, the last person you wanted to see would only surely be the only person you saw when you were apparently abandoned and alone. It was a horrid social rule-of-thumb and Risa loathed it with a vengeance.

"Sorry," Risa mumbled, apologizing to his feet rather than his face. She knew he was looking down at her, (anyone could feel that cold stare from a mile away), but she refused to meet his eyes. There was a short pause before he answered her.

"Don't be. It was an accident." Then his voice became only a fraction of a tone lighter when he asked, "Are you all right?" He reached out a hand to help her up. She ignored it and scrambled to her feet.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered snottily, dusting off her uniform. "I can get up on my own, thanks." But when she straightened up to look at him he wasn't looking back. He was staring at her jacket.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, sounding oddly strained. She cocked an annoyed eyebrow at him.

"Why do you want to know?" she challenged, lifting her chin and plucking at her lapel. "It's mine. I bought it."

He tilted his head to the side, questioningly. "You bought a boy's jacket?"

She shrugged nervously, unwilling to give him the last word no matter how childish and pointless the conversation was. "Yeah, so?"

Satoshi stared at her a few moments, a stare so blank and devoid of emotion that it made her uncomfortable, before he simply turned away from her and leaned against the brick wall and looked up at the sky. "Nevermind then." He folded his arms across his chest and, from Risa's point of view, began to thoroughly ignore her.

She didn't like being ignored.

"What are you still doing here anyway and--," she blinked, suddenly aware that Satoshi was not wearing his uniform but instead a plain black shirt, blue jeans, and a black bomber jacket. It made him look different. "—why aren't you in your school uniform?" She actually expected him not to answer and, basically, snub her as before, so when he did speak up she was slightly caught off guard.

"I have some place to be," he said quietly. "But I decided to take my time getting there."

There was a way he said it that made him sound younger, more childlike. Like when little boys and girls didn't want to go some where, but knew that they had too. He sounded reluctant.

"What are you still doing here, Harada-san?"

She shrugged, planning on saying something sarcastic and rude but thinking better on it and deciding on a civil response. "I was supposed to be working on something for the play, but my partner left early. I'm left here until I get a ride home." Risa fiddled with the sleeves of the jacket, watching Hiwatari. He hadn't looked at her, but she knew he was listening. Why, she wasn't sure; he had seemed disinterested in her in the morning.

Not that she really cared if he was interested or not.

"So do you come out here a lot? After school, I mean." He glanced at her and she attempted a smile. "It's a beautiful part of the school. I wouldn't blame you for liking it."

He looked back at the cherry blossoms and shrugged. "I come here sometimes when I want to be alone," he said. Risa felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Oh."

But instead of allowing her to feel humiliated he held out a hand to her, the small flower she had been chasing twirling between his fingers. "But it wouldn't be fair of me to deny others a place of peaceful solitude." He shrugged and dropped the pink blossom in her waiting hand. This time Risa smiled genuinely, tucking the flower behind her right ear.

"Um, Hiwatari-san, can I ask you something?"

"You already did, but go on ahead."

She smiled again. He had a sense of humor; however bland his delivery was, he still had a sense of humor. "It's obvious that you don't like the play, especially since you have to be—be Dark, so why do you still do it?" It had been a question she had been wanting to ask, having noticed his increasing dislike for the part showing through his stony exterior.

"Everyone voted for me to do it," he said lazily, leaning his head back. "It's what they wanted."

Risa leaned a shoulder against the brick wall, looking up at his profile. "But it's not what you want."

"True."

"Well then, why not say no and give the part to someone else? Why don't you just quit?"

He took his time to answer. "I don't like quitting things," he told her, talking languidly as he shifted his weight. "It's not my style."

She nodded, understanding completely. There was a few moments of easy silence and quiet that wasn't uncomfortable but welcomed. Risa found that she liked Satoshi Hiwatari's company, however empty it could appear to be. But he was someone who knew the value of silence where many other kids their age could hardly grasp it. Risa herself was just coming to terms with the concept.

But there was still the misunderstanding from that morning, and she still hadn't appreciated the way he had treated her. Maybe she would just nonchalantly bring the subject up.

"Hiwatari-san, you were really rude to me this morning. Why didn't you wait for me?"

Okay, so she was blunt. Whatever.

Satoshi took his time to answer her, seeming to be in no rush; almost resistant to disturb their humble silence. "I didn't want to be late for school," he answered plainly. Risa waited for him to say more, but he didn't. Instead he pushed himself off the brick wall and faced her. His eyes flicked to her flower and he reached out to straighten it. "You should get to the office and call someone. Being around here so late isn't safe."

"You know, you don't have to be so detached all the time," she scolded, instantly offended by his poor excuse. And they were getting along so well.

He turned his back on her and began walking away.

"Yes I do," he muttered. She watched him retreat from her before making up her mind a split second and following after him.

"No, you don't," she repeated, stating her words firmly. She caught up to his side and Hiwatari turned to stare down at her, looking genuinely surprised that she was coming with him.

He frowned. "What are you doing?"

She ignored him and referred back to their previous topic. "You're always so quiet, Hiwatari-san, and you never take the time to be friendly to anyone other than Niwa-kun." She noted that there was a profound glint in his eye when she mentioned Daisuke's name. She registered it and filed it away to remember later. "And yet you live alone and your father lives completely out of town. I would think that you'd want more friends."

Now, the regular Risa was pretty nosy on her own, prying into other people's business on a regular bases. But there were still some lines that she did not cross. What she had just said to Satoshi was one of them.

She watched the muscles in his neck tense.

"I don't believe that's any of your concern," he nearly growled, obviously annoyed by her. His strides became wider, but Risa fought to stay at his same pace. She wouldn't allow him to surpass her once again.

"I think it is. The way you treat people isn't right."

"And who's to say what is right and what is wrong?"

Risa fought the urge to shake him. She hated the way he was taking her scolding, with a dead tone and an emotionless face. It was like she wasn't even worth arguing with, let alone someone important enough to stop walking and talk to face to face. "There are a lot of people who care about you, Hiwatari, but you're too busy being 'isolated' to consider their feelings."

Satoshi flinched at the frank way she said his name, adding no honorific to it whatsoever. She smiled unto herself, glad that she had gotten a real reaction out of him.

"My personality and sociability is under my command, _Harada-san_, and not something you can dictate over."

"I can when it concerns me."

"It doesn't concern you."

"Yes it does!"

"How so?"

"Because I'm one of those people who cares about you!"

Satoshi immediately stopped in his tracks, making Risa pass him several steps before she noticed he wasn't walking any more. She turned back and saw him staring at her, his blue, blue eyes gazing. He didn't say a word, but Risa, simply from the look on his face, figured out why he was staring at her oddly and gasped, nearly horrified.

"No! I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I did mean it like that but I wasn't—I mean, I was…Look, I care about you because you're close to Niwa-kun, and Daisuke-san is close to both my sister and me. And when he was worried about you being gone for four days we were worried with him." She started tugging on a lock of her hair, a nervous habit she was trying to break. "I'm just saying that…that we're friends, Hiwatari-san." She met his eyes, hoping that she hadn't made a fool of herself. _We're friends!_ Hadn't he demonstrated over the years that he didn't need nor want friends? The entirety of their argument was focused on that very asset.

Satoshi held his silence a moment longer before continuing his pace.

"Hiwatari-san?"

"You shouldn't be friends with someone like me," he said, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her. "It won't do you any good." He started to brush past her but she shot out a hand and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him back.

"And you shouldn't tell me what to do. I can be friends with whoever I choose too, and maybe this time I just decided to choose you." She felt the muscles in his arm flex unconsciously; apparently human contact was beyond his daily routine. She, however, was surrounded by the scent of him. A clean, fresh scent that lingered on his clothing and triggered her memory to a wooden bench in a park, encased by trees.

She liked it.

Hiwatari suddenly, but gently, jerked his arm out of her grip and stepped away. She noted that his breathing had become strangely shallow. "I…have to go now." He took another step back. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turned away from her and started to run, his long legs carrying him far across the green expanse.

"Hiwatari-san! Hiwatari!" But calling out to him was useless, he had already disappeared around the other end of the school. "It was good talking to you too," she spat out, pouting. He was forever running out on her, leaving her to meander about on her own once more.

But it wasn't Satoshi leaving her alone that seemed to bother her so much now. If she thought hard about it, and admitted things honestly to herself, she found that she was far more disappointed at the fact that Satoshi simply left her at all.

--------

Daisuke flicked the calling card onto the floor and laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sunset outside splashed his room with colors of deepest garnet and palest gold. He checked his watch. It was nearing seven o'clock. That left him two hours of leisure before succumbing to the call of his alter ego and flying into the night to steal yet another artifact of Hikari art.

He sighed. As if his daily schedule wasn't taxing enough.

He flipped onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. He wasn't even sure where he was going tonight; and, it seemed, neither did Dark. He had asked him if he knew about The Mystic's Dream, but all he got was a disinterested mumble.

"If I don't know about it then it must not be that important," was his reply.

Even asking his mother and grandfather had been near useless.

"A very ancient piece of art, Daisuke. Said to be one of the most heavily guarded works by the Hikari family. Hardly any information has ever been released on it," his grandfather had told him. This, however, did nothing to help Daisuke.

"Mom?" He had approached his mother with the subject, seeing as she had been the one to leave the calling card. But she had only smiled unknowingly as she cheerfully washed the dishes. "Well, with a name like 'The Mystic's Dream', it has to be beautiful, right?"

And that was as much as he knew about that night's target. He wasn't even sure of the location, but Dark had said that they would find it, eventually.

"Trust me," the Phantom Thief said before settling into a nap before his time was called.

Daisuke sighed again and checked his watch. Seven thirty. The minutes were dragging on.

He glanced at his phone lying next to his head. The comforting thing to do would be to call Riku up, but then he'd be on the phone with her for hours. Besides, she had enough to worry about already, what with the play coming fast upon their heels. He didn't want to disturb her.

He frowned and turned his head the other way.

But what had really been concerning him was Satoshi. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Hiwatari would be playing Commander tonight, and that he, Dark, Satoshi, and Krad would certainly end up in an intense chase or heated battle. But Daisuke wasn't sure if Hiwatari would be up to it tonight. He didn't look any better at school, and transforming into Krad looked to take a lot of energy out of him. Not to forget Krad's excessive use of magic and its toll on his tamer's body.

"Kyuu?" Wiz had clambered up onto his bed, his floppy ears bouncing at his sides. Daisuke turned around to smile at him.

"It's okay Wiz, I'm not asleep. I know it's nearing the time." He picked him up and laid him on his stomach. Wiz cocked his head.

"Kyuu."

Daisuke suppressed a yawn. "I guess I am a little tired, but I'll manage. Dark will be doing all the work, anyway." His brow furrowed. "I just hope that Hiwatari-san hasn't planned anything too difficult for us tonight."

--------

He checked his watch. Half past eight. The time was approaching. He looked back up at his father, the mismatched colors of red and blue dancing behind his silhouette.

"Father?"

Hiwatari folded his hands under his chin, leaning forward ever so slightly. The serene smile on his lips and the cool way his eyes scanned the room hid a cold interior of suspicion and anxiety, a tactic Satoshi had watched his father use over and over again whenever he requested something.

"Satoshi." The way he said his name was always so distant, like he was speaking to an employee rather than his son. "What you're telling me is that Dark will come here tonight to steal a piece of artwork no one has ever heard about nor have ever seen. You want me to allow the local police force onto my property to set up their own feeble security measures, allow you into the haven below ground to set up your own security procedures, and, also, to deploy fifteen of my best men to serve as your own special operatives." He tilted his head forward. "Is that correct?"

Satoshi resisted the urge to yell. His father made him feel like this sometimes; like a small, unruly child with fantastic demands. "Yes sir," was the answer he forced out. His father closed his eyes, nodded, and leaned back in his chair. Meanwhile, the police lights continued to blaze behind him.

There was quite a long pause. "All right then, I concede."

He stood up straighter. Concede? So easily? His father had never agreed to his terms so soon before. "Really?"

"Yes, Satoshi. Really." Then his simple grin expanded to a full smirk, and Satoshi drew his surprise within himself once more. There was a catch. There was always a catch.

"What do you want, father?" The question was frost on his tongue, but it barely affected the stone man sitting in front of him.

Hiwatari swiveled his leather chair back and forth, his gaze locked on Satoshi's eyes. "You needn't sound so brittle; my request is simple."

Blue eyes narrowed. "And what is your request?"

"Tell me what The Mystic's Dream is."

Satoshi turned on his heel and walked towards the door, slipping his jacket on as he went. He reached for the knob.

"Is it that dangerous, Satoshi?"

He froze. His father continued to goad him, but as talented as he was in blocking out mediocre giggles and comments of his fellow classmates, he was powerless against the taunts of his own father.

"Or else is it that you wish to hold the secrets of The Mystic's Dream for yourself; Hikari possessiveness, I presume? Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Until tonight I had not known I was housing such a titled sculpture in my hollow. What is it about this art that has the Hikari's so tight-lipped about it's existence?"

Don't give in to it. Don't listen to him. It was just another of his clan's mistakes, and he intended to keep this one quiet. A quiet danger.

"If I tell you, will you give me leave of your property and men?" He heard the gentle creak of a chair and then smooth footsteps approaching him. Still, he did not look back from the door.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder. "Show me, and you are master of my manor for the night."

Satoshi swallowed the lump in his throat and opened the door, beckoning his father to follow.

--------

_There was a time in the Hikari lifestyle when the great artists began to long for something more than just their motionless art. Their quest for beauty and expression drove them to create powerful works that went far beyond the perception of art, including The Eternal Guide, The Second Hand of Time, and the sinister angel of myth and legend, Krad. _

_Their strive for beauty immersed them into a morbid quest of power and creation, making their art weapons of fantasy._

_Yet during that hunger for power and control, there was a deeper darkness stirring within them; a longing to give birth to something completely devoted to beauty. Something so captivating that it could literally drown the world in its wonder._

_Every Hikari creation had a purpose unto itself: The Eternal Guide was meant to show the way, The Second Hand of Time was meant to give and take time at will, and even Krad was given immense powers of destruction and magic in balance to his other half, Dark. Each artwork had been christened with a purpose, and so, in this way, was The Mystic's Dream._

_Art which could tear a person's deepest desires and dreams from them. Art which could dwindle a person down to near emptiness. Art that fed on a person's soul…_

--------

Dark crouched low in the shadows of the trees, peeking out between the leaves. In the distance he could see the great Victorian mansion surrounded by it's iron wrought gate, twenty-odd police cars with their sirens dancing, parked in it's front courtyard, and exactly sixty-seven uniformed officers scattered around the premises. He shrugged to himself, sitting back against the tree's bark. There were probably more inside.

"But there isn't a crowd," Dark muttered to himself, disappointed. "Aren't people interested in me anymore?"

"No one knows about the art, Dark, so no one's going to come out and see you steal it. I doubt even the news knows that you're coming out tonight." Daisuke's response was more than probable, but Dark was still disgruntled.

"But we found this place easily. It's hard to miss all those blazing lights."

This was true. Dark and Daisuke weren't sure where they were supposed to go that night for their thieving, but when Dark had risen into the sky they had immediately noticed a blue and red glow on the far outskirts of town. Finding 'The Mystic's Dream' had seemed to be easier than they thought.

Dark heard his tamer laugh good-naturedly. "Most people don't have Wiz to give them wings."

"So, Daisuke, what is this place?"

"I don't know. It's outside of the town, and I've never been this way before. To tell the truth, I never knew this place was here." He could feel Daisuke settling inside of him and allowing him to take over, solo, for the night. "Are you sure you know what you're doing Dark? Where to go, where the 'Mystic' is?"

In truth Dark had no idea where to go; nor did he have the advantage of finding the art through luck simply because he knew what it looked like. The entirety of his plan for the night consisted of getting inside the mansion and basically walking around till he saw a room with Hiwatari inside standing in front of the said art work that needed protection.

"Don't worry, Daisuke. I'll take care of things. Wiz!" Dark dropped from the tree branch just as Wiz slipped onto his back, transforming into the infamous pair of black wings and lifting Dark into the air. "I would have liked it better if I knew what I was dealing with though."

---------

_A sculpture made from fire and ice, it was a blown glass figure of a beautiful maiden. A maiden meant to embody all the perfections mankind strove for. She was glorious, with long, flowing hair caught in an endless breeze and garments drifting about her limbs in stilled motion. The entirety of her position was an arched back, slender arms reaching lovingly for the sky, and the whole of her balancing on a solitary foot pointed towards the earth. Such was the mastery of the Hikaris._

_But, like all their art, The Mystic's Dream held powers beyond comprehension. When bathed in the light of the moon, the silver beams dancing through every transparent curve in the sculpture, the statue would be endowed with a life all it's own, becoming the human version of the maiden, as beautiful alive as she was encased. From her lips there would rip the most sinister yet enticing song, giving the façade of a wondrous siren. And from her nimble frame would come the graceful motions of a dancer, her bare feet sweeping across the floor._

_All this was part of her beauty; the seduction to which she lured her victims. She embodied the very meaning of art in her appearance, song, and dance. She offered splendor._

_But in return for that splendor, she required a payment._

_A payment of a man's deepest desires and dreams. Every want, every hope, every longing would erupt within the victim's mind and heart, consuming them. And these were what the Mystic fed upon. The slightest brush would drain your desires, the gentlest touch would erase your hopes, and a single kiss would destroy all your dreams._

_And what is a soul deprived of its dreams? It is nothing but an empty vessel embedded with misery and regret. A hollow shell. A lifeless case._

_This was the horror of the Hikari's: a creation that could reduce the human spirit to near nothingness. A dangerous work not meant to be revealed but locked away for decades until the day a means was discovered to destroy it._

_The most beautiful work of the Hikaris was thence locked away and passed throughout the generations until one of their number could seal the evil it possessed…_

--------


	5. She Was Lost

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, but school has started, so updates will be scattered for me. This chapter might be a little awkward, but I hope you like it all the same. Again, I apologize for the wait and please, enjoy! 

**Chapter Five – She Was Lost**

"How much farther?"

"Not that much."

"I was never even aware this part of my manor existed."

"You built your property over Hikari land. This has been here for ages."

"You knew of it's existence?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When you first took me in."

They continued to walk down the darkened corridor, the only source of light coming from Satoshi's flashlight as he led the way. His father stayed close behind and slightly hunched. The corridor was low but wide, being underground.

"Why did you never tell me about it?"

Satoshi gripped his flashlight tighter. "It was like I said before, my ancestors did not trust 'The Mystic's Dream'. They wanted to destroy it but they couldn't, so they sealed it away on their own land, hoping that some future descendent could find the means to contain it's power."

"And why is it that they could not seal it for themselves?"

Satoshi did not answer.

_Tell him, Satoshi-dono. Tell the truth of the Mystic._

He shook his head, ignoring Krad. Was he not burdened enough, having his demanding father and a murderous alter ego on his case night and day? Now he had to deal with a piece of art whose history had only been passed down through Hikari blood and memories, making him the soul heir to the knowledge of its power. He sighed deeply.

The yoke was too great.

They reached the end of the corridor and faced a circular door made of white gold with a single embedded orb in its middle.

"I presume there is a key?" his father asked, but he failed to keep the excitement out of his voice. Satoshi glanced back at him and flicked off his flashlight.

"Only the touch of a Hikari can open this vault."

"Why did you turn off the light?"

Satoshi laid his hand on the orb. There was no ethereal light, no shining glow that told of the vault opening. The door simply opened with a slight creak and Satoshi stepped in after it. "We won't need it. It's too bright." He walked into the darkness where it consumed him. His father stayed behind at first, unwilling to follow.

"There is no other purpose for me being here if I cannot see the art." He was angry, yes, but there were others things Satoshi worried about than his father's wrath.

"You can still see it without the flashlight," he murmured, although his voice echoed against the rooms high acoustics. He walked farther into the shadows. He soon heard the echo of footsteps behind him.

_Turn on the light, Satoshi-dono. Gaze on to the majesty of the Mystic. You've wanted to for ages._

The hiss of Krad's voice in his ear plagued him but he ignored it, his hands clenching into fists. _You're prodding a fruitless temptation, _he thought fiercely. _Unlike my ancestors, I have no use for the Mystic. It is nothing to me._

They had come so deep into the chamber that the darkness was thick with shadowed walls. But in the space in front of them, clearly visible in the immediate black, was the faint glow of an oil lamp sitting on the stone ground at the base of a podium.

The footsteps behind him stopped.

"That's—that's the 'Mystic'?"

"Yes." Satoshi walked up to the podium and gazed down at it. He had seen it in his dreams, in Krad's memories, but he had never seen it in real life. Now he had, and he was glad to know that it's beauty did not affect him as badly as it did his father. "This is her." He sighed and sank to the ground, sitting in front of her simple podium. "Please leave now, father. Dark will be coming soon."

And he closed his eyes to wait as his father gazed longing for a few more moments before leaving him behind with the darkness and the single blazing oil lamp.

--------

She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Risa? Are you in here?"

"Yeah, I am." Not doing much but lying there. She didn't even see her sister enter the room, she was so distracted lately.

"Risa, are you okay?"

What was wrong with her?

"Yeah, I'm fine Riku."

"You don't look fine."

Something was plaguing her; something that made her feel horrible inside. Something that involved blue eyes and a cold exterior.

"Maybe I'm just tired." But she wasn't tired. She was far from it. She was really just a little distressed.

"From what?"

From Hiwatari. "From school," she answered quickly. She couldn't be thinking of Satoshi now. Not after she had tried to come to good terms with him and he had refused. Risa felt the bed dip again and Riku was lying on her side next to her. Risa turned her head to her sister. "Riku, mother and father always taught us to be kind to others, right?"

Riku furrowed her brow. "Of course."

"Well, what do you do when your kindness only makes them…angrier?"

She blinked, confused. "Angrier? How could that make someone angrier?"

Yes, how could it?

"I don't know."

Riku sat up and looked down at her sister, puzzled. Risa stared back, waiting for the retribution she was sure she would get for being sad. Riku never did like it when she was sad.

Not that Hiwatari was making her sad.

More the situation he had placed on her.

"Well Risa, whoever it is that isn't taking well to your kindness is an idiot," Riku replied deliberately.

Risa smiled broadly despite herself. "Oh, really?" she asked coyly. Her sister grinned and nodded.

"'Kindness is a gesture only the plagued refuse', and I'll bet anything it's a plague of idiocy."

Risa giggled. "Where did you hear that?"

"I read it in a book somewhere. So, are you coming down for dinner?"

Risa sat up, feeling much better. "Yeah, I'll be down soon."

But when Riku left Risa laid back down on her bed and looked back at the ceiling. She thought of Hiwatari again but decided that if he didn't want to make peace between them then fine, she'd obey his wishes. He wasn't exactly the suave, debonair thief that Dark was; the Thief was always a charming gentleman when she was with him.

Risa's hand unconsciously reached over the side of her bed and into the folds of her book bag. She withdrew the white feather that she kept on the inside pocket, holding it up over her face so that her lamplight made it look nearly transparent.

Even the unknown owner of the feather was probably a better gentleman that Hiwatari.

He even had the decency to leave her his jacket.

--------

Dark flicked the latch and waited for the sound of running footsteps to die down. He leaned one shoulder against the closed door and crossed his arms.

Sometimes getting past the guards was too easy.

"Dark, where are we?" Daisuke asked. Dark looked around the room they were in, shrugging.

"Don't know. But I can feel the pulse of life faintly here; the life of an artwork."

But there was no art here. They were in an old cellar, the walls and flooring made from stone and the beams that helped support it made from aged birch. Crates of little significance lined the walls, and near the back there were a few shelves scattered with knick knacks, rusted tools, and empty jars. Other than that, the place was near empty.

He felt Daisuke yawn. "Art? Here? Doesn't seem like the kind of place that's prepared for it."

Dark straightened and glanced around, the black wings that were Wiz towering behind him. "You're right. Hey, Daisuke, you seem more tired than usual. Are you getting lazy on me?"

"No, I am not getting lazy! It's just all this is taking a lot out of me!"

Dark laughed to himself, walking over to the shelves. "'All this'? What do you mean? School?"

He felt Daisuke yawn again. "No, not just school. I mean this, transforming into you and dealing with your magic."

Dark stopped walking abruptly and frowned, the laugh gone from his lips. "My magic is painful for you, isn't it?"

"No, no, don't worry about that. It only hurts a little bit. But it mostly just makes me tired. I probably just need a but more rest, is all."

Dark sighed and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah. Right." But he knew it wasn't true. The magic that he possessed did not fit well with that of a regular human, and the price Dark paid for using his magic was the pain of Daisuke's body and the draining of his energy.

If anything, it made him feel more like a parasite than an other half.

"Don't worry, Dark," Daisuke said. "Even though you'd never admit it, I know you try to hold back on your magic as much as you can. I'm just lucky I'm not Hiwatari-san. Krad doesn't seem to care for him that much."

"Hah. Krad doesn't care for anyone or anything but himself." Dark growled inwardly at the idea of Krad before bending over the shelves and inspecting the contents carefully. It took a few moments, but then he found the jar he was looking for and twisted the lid slightly to the left. The bare wall to the side of the shelves sank away to reveal a sizable passage.

"How did you know that was there!" Daisuke exclaimed. Dark shrugged, peeking in.

"I just did. I could feel the art coming from this wall." He squared his shoulders and jumped from the ground, flapping his black wings. "Okay Daisuke, I'll be taking over from here. You go and rest now."

"Be careful, Dark," Daisuke said as the phantom thief flew down the passageway, his chest barely grazing the floor skidding past. Dark grinned.

"I'm always careful."

--------

Satoshi leaned his head back and groaned, clutching his stomach. His side was still sore from the cracked rib, but his blood pressure was dropping as well. He hadn't eaten before he came. A careless mistake.

He frowned and glanced up at the podium, the broad platform wide enough to obscure the 'Mystic' from his angle, but it still didn't prevent him from throwing his coat over it to hide it. The most he could see was one, glass hand, intricately carved, reaching upward towards the darkened ceiling and the surface above. Even from his seat on the floor he could make out the loving detail of the art: the wrinkles in the hand, the bends of the fingers, the minute lines on the palms.

He had to admit, his ancestors had an amazing skill for art.

_Look at her, Satoshi-dono. Gaze upon her. Appreciate the creation of your Hikari relatives._

Satoshi turned his eyes away and stared into the waiting darkness once again. "Shut up, Krad. Why don't you come out here and look at it yourself, since you're so obsessed," he muttered angrily, although, admittedly, there was hardly enough anger behind the statement. He was never very good at expressing emotion.

_Oh, count on the fact that I will, tamer. But let's just say that I'm waiting for the right time to appear._ There was a low laugh. Satoshi sighed heavily.

"Interfering with Dark, I presume. Sadly, it won't happen tonight. I've already got plans for the Phantom Thief."

_You haven't the strength to fight me, Satoshi-dono. Your body is weak and your mind is growing weaker. I do not see how you can tell me what to do._

Blue eyes flashed. "My body may be recovering, Krad, but my mind suffers from nothing. And, for a task as important and complicated as this, it's all I'll need to hold you back. It is hardly weak."

When next Krad spoke it was his usual mocking tone, but, this time, a hint of inquisitive nature. _Oh, really? Then why the frustrations, tamer? Why the distress over a pretty little girl with brown eyes and long hair, wearing a white jacket and chasing a cherry blossom in the wind?_

Satoshi tensed.

_Your mind worries about her. Did you hurt her feelings this morning? Should you have been kinder? Should you have taken the jacket from her--…_

"Shut up, Krad."

_--and those kind of thoughts take away from your precious, isolated nature. Your cold, calculating mind is being plagued by juvenile dilemmas. My dear tamer is, dare I say, becoming a teenager?_

"Shut up, Krad! I don't care for whatever manipulative thoughts you've concocted for me. Tonight I stay in control, whether I have to die to do so or not. I've got too important of a job to hand it over to the likes of you." Satoshi felt the low rumbles of Krad's laugh but knew that he would be silent…for now at least. But it didn't matter. He'd prove to him soon enough that, when the problem called for it, Satoshi could stay in control.

And with the Phantom Thief on his way and the fabled 'Mystic's Dream' as the target, staying in control was an absolute necessity.

--------

Dark landed nimbly on his feet, glancing back at the black corridor. With a soft 'kyuu', Wiz transformed back into his rabbit self and landed on the ground next to Dark's ankle. The roofing was too low for him to stay as wings.

Dark frowned at the blackness he saw. He hadn't thought to bring a light, but now he regretted it. He was consumed in complete darkness.

"We're pretty far from the manor," he murmured to himself, reaching out an arm in front of him. He explored the darkness with his fingers before his hand fell against a cold, hard surface. Dark gritted his teeth. "Sorry about this, Daisuke," he whispered before reaching inside of himself to draw forth his magic. He pressed his fingertip against the smooth surface and it instantly illuminated, revealing a door made of white gold with an orb at its center.

--------

Satoshi looked up. Far across the surrounding blackness he could see a circular glow of light coming from the direction he had entered. His eyes narrowed.

Dark had arrived at last.

--------

He inspected the door for a moment before placing his palm over the orb and blasting it with the smallest amount of magic as he could. The door did not budge, but he did not want to try it again. If the Commander and Krad were inside he'd have to save his strength.

"Maybe it's just a plain lock." But when he touched the orb the door immediately creaked, slowly opening for him. He frowned, watching it open to even more blackness. "Or maybe not."

He stepped in, the light from the door fading and drowning him in artificial blindness once more. A blindness that was near complete save for the smallest flicker of light somewhere ahead of him.

"Or maybe it's just plain magical; a lock that can only be accessed by Hikari blood or Hikari creation." The dead, bland voice echoed over the expanse, its origin coming from somewhere near the light.

Dark walked forward, his fists clenched at his sides as he grinned. Somewhere behind him Wiz followed at a distance as he headed for the small silhouette of Satoshi in the distance. "So, tonight I get the Chief Police Commander? Where's the demon in angel's clothing?" he called out. But his intention to anger Satoshi seemed fruitless as the boy merely sighed.

"Fond as you are of Krad, I am obliged to keep him sedated for the night," he remarked, although the barb he had purposely stuck in there was useless in his tired tone. "It's just you and me, Dark."

The Thief rolled his eyes, stopping a reasonable distance away and crossing his arms. "How sentimental. I'm nearly touched." He examined the Commander's face and had to keep himself from laughing. Instead of being the ever primped Hiwatari, arms folded and eyes narrowed in vicious malice, Satoshi sat almost slumped on the ground, his back leaning against a podium and his knees drawn up to his chest, his elbows resting lazily against them. But despite the tired and lax manner from which he appeared, Dark could still see the crazed glee in his eyes; the same glint that always flickered there when he saw Dark.

This was the rush of the chase, the joy he found in tracking and capturing.

"How do you know about 'The Mystic's Dream?"

Dark was caught off guard by the blunt question. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared at Satoshi.

"Are you really asking me that?"

"Yes."

Dark frowned. "Why aren't you trying to capture me?"

"My family has never spoken of the 'Mystic', nor has it ever been recorded in their documents or books."

"You're not even standing. What's wrong with you?"

Satoshi shifted his weight against the podium, sitting up slightly straighter. "So it would naturally strike me as odd that you have heard of it, irregardless of you being in the Niwa family."

"Enough questions!" Dark was growing frustrated and, to be honest, slightly uncomfortable. It was strange enough for Hiwatari to be lazing about on the ground like he was, but it was even stranger in the stance that he held; it was as if he were ready to pounce at any movement Dark made towards the sculpture. "We just know, all right! All I'm concerned about is that it's Hikari art, and I steal Hikari art!"

The boy pushed his glasses farther up his nose, looking up at Dark with narrowed eyes. "I'm telling you now that you're not going to take the 'Mystic'."

Dark scoffed at him, growing highly annoyed. "Spare me, Commander. How many times have you tried to prevent my stealing and failed miserably?"

"This is different."

"How so?"

"I intend to persuade you otherwise."

Dark's jaw nearly dropped in surprise. Next to him Wiz practically died from shock, falling on his back with his feet in the air, having been utterly bewildered. "Excuse me?"

"I said I'm going to persuade you to leave it alone." Satoshi struggled to his feet, groaning. Dark watched him and felt a swell of hate build inside him for Krad. If the damn bastard showed any intelligence, he would have helped Hiwatari heal so that Dark would at least have a decent adversary. Either help him to heal or refrain from murdering him slowly with magic. "No matter what I have to do, I can't let you take this sculpture."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's dangerous."

"I'm dangerous."

"You're nothing compared to this." Satoshi stood in front of the 'Mystic', obscuring Dark's vision of the art shrouded by Hiwatari's coat. "This is not simply art we are talking about here, or the Hikari and Niwa rivalry. This is far more lethal than that, and I beg you to leave this one alone."

Dark's mouth twitched with a smile, ignoring Satoshi's serious demeanor. "You beg?"

"Yes, I do."

"The great Chief Commander would actually beg?"

Hiwatari gritted his teeth. "Be serious for once, Dark! This isn't about me or you anymore; it's bigger than that!" Satoshi let out a pained cry and crashed to his knees, hunching over the ground in brutal agony. Dark took a step back, unprepared. Krad had already been late in showing up and he had assumed he would not come about tonight, as Satoshi had said.

The blue-haired youth, however, seemed persistent in keeping his promise. He struggled violently with Krad, his hair beginning to fade into a golden hue and his eyes flickering between transformation. But it was more than once that Dark thought Krad was going to break through when Satoshi suppressed him once more, regaining his control. The Thief had to admit that he was impressed.

"I said not tonight, Krad!" Satoshi's strained cry bounced off the chamber walls and ceiling. He slammed a fist into the stone ground in agonizing annoyance. "Leave it alone!"

"Dark!" Dark blinked once then twice. He had thought Daisuke had fallen into the recesses of slumber but, apparently, the raucous that was happening in the chamber had drawn him forth once again. "Dark, what is going on?"

"Your friend there is having quiet an identity crisis." Dark's brow furrowed in unnerving displeasure. Satoshi was clearly being torn from the inside by fighting Krad, but he still kept on. He truly was unwilling to relinquish his control to the beast that night. It half-occurred to Dark that the 'Mystic' had to be the ultimate danger for a human to subjugate himself to torture.

"Stop it! Stop it, now! It's too dangerous to let go!" Satoshi jerked his head up abruptly and stared directly into Dark's eyes. The intensity of those blue irises sent the thief reeling back in shock. "Leave! Get out of here! Don't go anywhere near the sculpture!"

Truly, Dark would have heeded the boy's words and gotten himself out of there, if not for his own fearful observation of the Krad/Satoshi struggle, but even more so for the safety of Daisuke. If Krad really did break through after all that time he would be right furious, having had to struggle so long with his tamer. He would have taken out his frustrations on Dark, and Dark would then be forced to use more magic than he had originally intended.

And that would hurt Daisuke. A lot.

But the prospect of running away, of abandoning his Phantom Thief duties, seemed dishonorable.

"Dark, we have to help him," Daisuke said. "He's going to really hurt himself if Krad doesn't stop or if he doesn't give in." But Dark shook his head, eyes genuinely filled with pity.

"No, he won't get hurt. He might _die_."

"DARK!"

The shrill cry shattered the darkness surrounding them as a tornado of white wings erupted around Satoshi, swirling in an angry mass. Hiwatari struggled in the storm's eye, continuing his fight. Dark quickly touched Wiz's head and used his wings to lift himself from the ground to hover above Satoshi.

"DARK!"

Dark would have been almost completely convinced that it was Krad who called his name, if only Satoshi had not continued to scream in his suffering voice.

"DARK, GO! The 'Mystic' will only bring horrible things with her awakening! Just leave it alone! Just this once!"

There was a huge burst of wind and Satoshi hunched over again as a glistening pair of pearl white wings erupted from his back. The Phantom Thief gritted his teeth and flexed his muscles, preparing himself.

"I'm sorry, Daisuke," he said. "I'll try not to hurt you too much this time."

--------

Risa whipped around, her eyes immediately resting on her balcony doors. They were firmly shut and the curtains drawn.

She frowned, turning back around to leave her room.

But she could have sworn that there had been a gust of wind; wind colder than she had ever felt before.

For a fleeting moment she imagined the image of two, towering white wings, but she quickly dismissed it and flicked off her light, leaving her room.


	6. Unknown, Confused

Chapter Six – Unknown, Confused

There was an immense flash of light and Dark beat his wings furiously, rising higher above the mayhem below. He threw up his arms to shield his eyes, turning away. The light was blinding, searing. It incinerated is very being.

"Dark! Dark! What's going on!"

"Not now, Daisuke!" The Phantom Thief chanced a glance downward and what he saw left him flabbergasted.

"Dark, he's not--!"

"I know."

What he had expected to see was Krad; Krad in all his hideous glory, donned in the clothes that Satoshi had been wearing, which always made him either look too innocent or too young. Krad, with his long, golden crown of hair and his eyes of bright, malicious ember. Krad, his other, monstrous half.

But it wasn't Krad.

Miraculously it was still Satoshi that stood before the 'Mystic's' podium. His body was shaking, but it was still his body, not that of the creature inside of him. He was breathing heavily and his hand was clutching the podium for balance. He tried to loosen the taut muscles in his shoulders but growled in vicious pain. He glared over his shoulder in detest. The towering, white wings served to only weaken his already strained body, the magic they used to sprout forth having felt like two daggers ripping through his flesh.

_I warned you, Krad_, Satoshi thought, ignoring Krad's cries of rage and deprivation from not being released. _I told you I'd stay in control._

He took in a shuddering breath and looked up.

Dark still hovered above, too amazed to descend downward. It wasn't possible for a human to suppress the pull of Hikari art, especially through the fashion that Krad did it. The magic that Hiwatari must have had to fight was probably immensely strong, so how had he managed?

"He really is bent on protecting that sculpture," Dark said to himself, staring down at the boy. An unconscious smile crossed his lips as his thieving mind swung into overdrive. "Which makes it all the more imperative for me to steal it."

He swooped down towards the sculpture, aiming vertically for Satoshi's head. The Chief Commander threw his head back to stare up into his face, his eyes burning with pain and rage.

"I said leave it alone, Dark!" He bellowed and pointed his flashlight directly into Dark's face, shining its light into his eyes. Dark cried out and faltered in flight, shielding his face from the beam. He blinked rapidly, momentarily blind, as he fumbled back down to the ground a few feet in front of Hiwatari.

"Why you--," he groaned, but Satoshi wasn't listening.

"There are things about this art that make it dangerous to the existence of mankind. Things that can harm a human's very soul." He sounded desperate as he explained, not threatening.

Dark didn't know how to deal with desperation.

"All your family's art hurts the human soul, whether it's corrupting it or, in your case, manipulating it like some parasite!" Dark lashed out the statement without emotion. The barb could not have possibly missed its target, and Satoshi narrowed his eyes.

"Aren't you manipulating Niwa? Aren't you a parasite as well? You're just like Krad."

"Don't you ever say that!" Dark's vision was clearing and he began to see the Commander clearly. He was standing erect, the wings still protruding from his shoulder blades and the oil lamp held in one hand. "I'm not like that monster! I'll never be like that monster!"

"But, just like him, all you care about is possessing The Mystic and you don't care to what it could mean to everyone else! All you think about is your stupid reputation as the Phantom Thief. Well, enough with the reputation! You can't have this one Dark, so leave it alone!"

"Stop blabbering and get out of my way!" With a powerful pounce Dark jetted directly for Satoshi.

In one, swift motion Satoshi had cracked open the oil lamp, pulling out the burning wick and splayed the oil around him in a circle. He tossed the wick onto the trail, igniting a barrier of fire between him and Dark. The Thief dug his heels into the ground and stiffened his wings, skidding to a stop before he entered the flames.

"No," Satoshi said from the opposite side of the barrier. "Not this time."

"You little bastard!" Dark jumped into the air, clearing the tips of the flames and searching for an opening past the boy.

Satoshi, consumed in his role as defender, picked up two of the lamps shards from the ground and, with trained precision threw them at Dark, both aiming for his chest. Dark was able to swerve out of range of the first one, but, instead, moved into the line of the second and caught it in his right arm.

Dark, surprised, fell back down to the ground.

"I'm not giving up," Satoshi informed him. Dark's frustration was mounting.

"I AM THE PHANTOM THIEF!" he cried, lying on his side and glaring through the dancing fires at those menacing blue eyes. "And I have never backed down!"

Without thinking of the consequences or to the strain that it would do to Daisuke, Dark raised his hand towards Satoshi and gathered his magic for the shot.

Hiwatari realized what he was doing and paled, losing what power he had commanded earlier. "Dark, no!"

But the bullet had been shot and the blast of shadowed light zoomed between them and struck Satoshi hard in the chest. He flew back, his limp body hitting the podium and knocking it to the ground, but there was no clink of broken glass as The Mystic struck the stone floor.

"Dark!"

Dark started abruptly and sat up, breathing hard. "Daisuke," he cried, searching within himself for the feel of the boy's energy. It was wavering, and he was in incredible pain from the magic. "Daisuke, I'm sorry," he whispered, angry that he was flooded with a sudden wave of shame and guilt for hurting him. "I wasn't thinking."

"Krad, no!"

Dark looked up and saw Satoshi struggling to his feet. His arm was stretched out before him, stiff and rigid, with the palm opened directly for him. The Commander was struggling with his arm, tugging fruitlessly on his own wrist to lower it.

"Krad, stop it! Stop it, now!" Dark watched as he squeezed his eyes shut, a golden light gathering before his hand. "Krad…" he was losing, and the magic Krad was mustering would be hard to dodge. Dark flapped his wings and tried to stumble into flight. "Krad…Krad…no!"

With an almighty wrenched Satoshi averted his arm upward, now aiming for the high, vaulted ceiling. There was a piercing cry and then golden rays were ripped out through his arm, flying towards the wall and striking it with a resounding blast. Dark covered himself with his wings to shield against the flying stones and debris.

"DARK! GO!" Such a note of pleading, panic and fear. It was already unnerving listening to this cold, collected boy beg; it was more unnerving to hear him plead; it was downright troubling to listen to his fear. "Hurry, get out of here! Leave!"

The Phantom Thief emerged from his feather cocoon and beat his wings, rising a few feet higher into the air. He looked up to where Krad's blast had struck the wall. There was a wide hole where the wall and ceiling had been and the damp earth was pouring in. Dark flew closer and noticed that he was staring up from the ground, the wide, evening sky displayed above him.

The moon was glowing radiantly in the heavens and it flooded the room with its beams.

Then Dark felt it. The tingling sensation of both warmth and cold traveling up from his feet, his legs, past his waist and into his very lungs. The same shimmer of magic and art rushed through him, but this time it was accompanied by something darker…something older…something crueler…

Like cold fingers, the feeling wrapped around his throat and suffocated him, dazing him and making his body feel week with fatigue. Something was happening. Something was happening that shouldn't have been.

Just when Dark turned his head to look down a blur of white rushed him, enveloping him in a swirl of white wings. Strong, human hands grasped him by his lapels and he was jerked into the tide, his body being tugged upward, chest first, as the white blur raced for the opening.

"What the hell are you doing!" Dark demanded. They were nearing the opening of the sky while below sinister and beautiful magic was forming.

"We need to get out," Satoshi called back at him. "We need to leave now."

Dark tried to pry himself loose of the boy's grip. Satoshi would have died before he let him go.

In a breath of relief mixed with frustration and disappointment, the two winged men sprouted through the opening and into the clear night. They were in a valley between some of the mountains, the Hiwatari mansion a few miles to the east.

They were alone.

Satoshi landed clumsily on the ground and hurriedly pushed Dark aside. Without hesitation, he aimed his palm towards the gaping opening in the earth and sent a wave of white light to consume it, the magic slowly sealing the hole.

Dark stared at the white light and then back at Satoshi. He was bleeding in a thousand different places, the skin exposed at his neck and collarbone were bruised. The hand that had been the puppet and portal to magic was limp and scathed.

"What was that about--," Dark began to ask, but the Chief Commander ignored him and jumped into the air again.

"Leave, Dark. Leave this cursed ground." And then he was gone, a mere angelic vision rising into the star-studded night as he made his elevated way back towards the city.

--------

Satoshi could feel his body draining, could feel the very last pull of life itself begin to drain from him. He was beaten and bruised, most likely in the worst shaped he'd ever been in his life. He teetered in his flight, too dizzy to pay attention to the way the wind current was carrying him.

The magic had left lingering traces of strain. Krad was still raging inside of him. The wings did nothing but make his shoulders sore. He was probably dying of blood loss, what with all the cuts and abrasions and scratches he had accommodated.

And still he had failed to protect the world against The Mystic's Dream.

The moon's rays had touched it, had bended and contorted itself in the many transparent curves of the sculpture. The damage had been done, the evil released. He had allowed The Mystic to reawaken.

Satoshi began to rapidly descend from his flight, his body crumbling and his wings waning.

All he wanted was to sleep…sleep and never wake up to the responsibilities, trials, and tribulations he would have to face for his folly.

He collapsed onto a stone surface, the sound of the sea trailing at the back of his mind.

Where was he? Where had he ended up?

Someplace where the night was filled with the scent of cherry blossoms and lavender. Where there was a glass window and pink curtains. Where the balcony overlooked a cliff and the shore.

He laid his body down on the cold stone and closed his eyes.

Maybe, by some miracle, he'd wake up in a few hours to find himself dead and at peace.

--------

Risa was a pretty heavy sleeper. When she was out, she was out. There were many times when Riku would be at her wit's end trying to wake her up in the morning. She was easily caught in a world consumed by peace and dreams.

But, for some reason, Risa had been sleeping lightly all night. She had crawled underneath her sheets at ten thirty, tired and worn, and from there had woken up several times during the night. Eleven o'clock; one thirty-seven; three thirteen. And then she'd lay there for several moments, either staring at her ceiling, her wall, or the glass doors that led out to her balcony. She didn't know what it was that was making her restless, but she was beginning to loath it with genuine prejudice.

Risa was never a happy person when sleep deprived.

And now dawn would be coming. Risa lay on her back, waiting for the golden rays to stain her ceiling with gradual descent. She had been lying, awake, for maybe half an hour now. She was tired, but obviously not tired enough to fall asleep. She groaned.

"Today won't be a good day," she mumbled to herself, tumbling out of bed and landing, catlike, on her feet. She straightened up, stretched, and let loose an almighty yawn. Risa gathered her hair behind her head and snatched the hair tie from her dresser, securing her brown locks off her neck. She never did like the prickly feel of her hair on her skin in the morning.

Risa rubbed her arms. She felt cold and wondered if Riku had turned on the cooler. She usually didn't mind if her sister preferred the cold climate, but Risa had been lazy the night before and had not taken the time to don her usually warm nightgown. She only wore a large shirt and boxer shorts, the loose night clothes that Riku preferred from tightly hemmed nightgowns.

She checked her clock again. Four o'clock. The sun was at least another two hours' wait away, but all the same, Risa was glad it wasn't a school day. Even with all the time to get ready she didn't feel up to the trials of education.

She strode over to her window and threw back her curtains, intending to await the morning light to blaze away her fatigue. What she didn't intend was to look down, scream, and trip over her rug as she tried to back away from her balcony in surprise.

--------

_"Come with me, Satoshi-dono. Come with me and we'll steal through the night. Leave your world behind as you part from the light…in my dreams…you'll stay in my dreams…you'll die in my dreams…you'll never return…"_

Satoshi woke with a start, his heart racing dangerously in his chest and fear enveloping him in brittle arms. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position but found the task beyond impossible. Instead he blinked rapidly, trying to focus his vision. He was staring through the pillars of a rail, the sound of ocean waves filling his ears, and the crisp cold of darkness. But it was a different darkness…farther from late and closer to early.

With a cruel effort Satoshi rested his palms against the smooth stone and pushed his upper body up, flopping back into a sitting position. He groaned out loud at the soreness in his muscles and the wounds on his body. He rolled his shoulder in its socket, loosening the tight muscles.

The bloody wings were starting to get heavy.

_"In the dark I have come, I am cold. I will take what I need, I feed on your soul…in my dreams…somewhere in my dreams…you'll stay in my dreams…you'll never return…"_

That haunting voice; he could hear her. She was so far away, sealed in her cavern, and yet he could still hear her.

_"Satoshi-dono."_

He frowned, frustrated. It was one thing to hear the song of The Mystic and be afraid, but hearing Krad's voice was just starting to get annoying.

"Shut up," he grumbled and began to struggle to his feet, spreading his wings to help balance his wobbly frame.

There was a low, amused chuckle. _"But tamer, I think you've frightened her."_

Puzzled, Satoshi glanced to his right. Through the glass of the window, which was actually a door, sat Risa Harada, her feet tangled in a pink rug, her long hair tied messily behind her head, and her wide eyes dilated in fear as they stared into his face.

Satoshi sighed. "Damn."

--------

She breathed deeply, pulling the air into her lungs with great care. The cold that passed through her body was shock, but it was one that she had not been allowed to feel for years. She breathed again and again and again.

Oh, how she loved to be alive.

She wiggled her fingers and held them up to her face. They were moving, tangible things; no longer frozen in their reach for the stars. She flexed the muscles of her hands. They responded. She used them to brush the hair from her face, tossing the silken mane over her shoulders where they fell to her knees. She blinked, looking at her surroundings with eyes of bright amethyst. Everything was so dark, save for a few glowing embers of a dead fire scattering the ground and the smallest sliver of moonlight peeking in from the ceiling; a moonlight that had, moments before, doused the vault in its brilliance, alighting upon her and filling her with life once again.

She had longed for that moonlight.

She ran her hands over her arms. She was freezing, but she did not mind it. The garments that she wore were hardly made to keep her warm. They were loose and thin, a dress layered with gossamer and silk, slinking off her shoulders and her collar. She wore nothing on her feet.

There was a sudden feeling within her chest and she realized it was excitement. So…she really was alive again. And if she was alive, then she was still able to sing…

The lips parted, the eyes closed, and the voice of fire and ice flowed outward, pouring from her throat in one clear, menacing note. It seeped through the walls, through the earth, into the night, carrying out towards the city where it leaked onto the streets and into the sea. It was beautiful and ethereal. It was inhuman. It was Art.

The Mystic let the note fall slowly, fading out into the night. She breathed again.

"My Hikari," she whispered. Her voice, so different from her song, was deep and resonating with melodies. "My Hikari. Where has he gone? Where has the cursed one gone?" She looked up into the moonlit sliver. "I must find him…my Hikari. My dying Hikari…" She lifted her elegant leg and, with the pointed feet of a dancer, stepped up onto the vaulted air.


	7. A Rose Caught In A Devil's Snare

Chapter Seven — A Rose Caught in a Devil's Snare

There was a stale moment of panic that held the air for a split second; a moment when they both just stared at each other, Risa's brown eyes wide and unbelieving and Satoshi's blue ones cold and dismayed. After all he had been through that night, did he really need this to deal with as well?

He inwardly scolded himself for getting into this mess. If he'd only been a little stronger, had a little more will power, he could have made it all the way home instead of falling onto some foreign balcony. What lay before him now was a problem he had created, and he momentarily mourned the loss of his peaceful and concealed lifestyle. After Risa saw his wings she would surely be able to piece two and two together.

But then the moment had passed on into more moments and still she did nothing, only stared at him from her place on the floor, the last remnants of the moon lighting up her pale features. And then he realized that if the moonbeams shone on her, then they were illuminating only his back, and he was nothing more than a strange silhouette on her parapet. She wouldn't have been able to see his face.

She didn't know who he was.

With a grunt of effort, Satoshi rose to his feet, staggering a bit while making sure to keep his back to the disappearing moon. He stared down at Risa's form, saw her hold her breath as he spread his wings wide. She must have been terrified, seeing a winged creature like himself alight just outside her bedroom. What a creature he was. What a monster.

Without another glance in her direction, Satoshi rose into the sky, his shoulder blades beating his wings systematically, hot fire burning in his every wound. But he fought to rise upward, even after he saw her door fly open, even after he noticed her running out onto her balcony, and even after he felt her tiny hands grab at his shirt to pull him back down again.

--------

He was beautiful. Like an angel.

The lean frame and his hair blowing in the ocean wind. His long fingers and those towering wings. She was almost captivated by the shadow; the need to see his face was irrelevant. She didn't have to see him to know him and to adore him.

Who else could it be but her beloved Dark? What other stealthy being would it be who could fly up to her balcony and stand there with all the command in the world? There was no one else, because Dark was so unique, she could love only him. And this being standing before her, this majestic person, was the man she was meant to love. She knew it.

But then she saw him look up and bend his knees and she knew he was preparing to fly off, to leave her behind once again. She didn't know if she'd ever get the chance to see him again, and that thought jerked her into action without a moment's hesitation.

"No, wait!" She shot to her feet and fell against the door, her hand groping for the handle and then throwing it wide open in her haste. "Please, don't go!" He was already rising up into the air but Risa, afraid of getting left behind, jumped forth and snatched at his arm, pulling him back down with her. There was a grunt of pain that sounded from his darkened face, but she did not take heed to it. "Please, Dark, don't leave me again--,"

A cold hand, callused and cut, fell over her eyes as she was pushed up against the wall with a force that left her breathless. The other hand was grasping her arm in its long fingers, holding her fast against the wall as well. A fleeting thought of terror filled her and she suddenly hoped that she was not mistaken about her intruder's identity. But then the man spoke, and although it was barely a whisper and indecipherable, she knew there was kindness behind it and that she need not fear it's owner.

"Do not look at me. Do not scream. You must realize the urgency of keeping my identity secret," he said. Risa swallowed hard and nodded against his hand.

"Yes, I understand. You're the Phantom Thief."

A pause.

"Yes…yes I am."

"Dark."

The fingers on her arm slackened, but her eyes remained concealed, the forced darkness a small price to pay for being in his presence. He didn't say anything for awhile, and the silence between them began to lengthen. With a tentative hand and a forced bravery, Risa lifted her lead-filled fingers and reached out to touch his face. Touch connected with soft hair, and he flinched in reaction. He was probably absorbed in deep thought and she had caught him by surprise. She smiled. It was a sweet image, imaging Dark so distracted that he would jump at her touch.

"You're hurt," Risa realized, feeling the sticky substance of blood over shallow fissures all around his scalp. She ran her hand through his hair, combing it back even while is slid through her fingers, tangled yet soft. She thought she heard him catch his breath. "What happened to you?" When he didn't answer she grabbed onto his wrist and tried to uncover her eyes.

"No." His hand didn't budge.

"But I already know your face. I've seen you so many times before." She reached out and boldly explored the contours of his face. He held his breath, for the sound of his breathing immediately ceased. She could trace the outlines of his high cheekbones and the deep valleys of his eyes. Risa frowned. They were the same although, somehow, oddly different. His jaw wasn't as square and his eyes did not feel so feline, but they were still strong and they were still familiar, in some way or another.

"Risa, stop it." He still did not talk above a whisper, but his voice sounded urgent. Reluctantly, and slowly, she took her hands away from his face.

"Then at least let me see you."

"No."

"Why are you acting so strange? Like you're afraid? You're never afraid."

"How do you know what I'm like?" He sounded disingenuous, as if what he said held a conspiratorial note to it. It was a sinister double-play on words, and she could not find it's other meaning. "You don't know me."

She swatted his hand aside, uncovering her eyes in a blur. "How can you say that after all this time, Dark!" She waited to see his face but it never came. Just as quickly he twisted her by her shoulders so that her back was to him, holding her firmly to his chest so she could not turn around to look.

"Do not look at me!"

"Why does it matter if I already know who you are!"

He didn't answer, but his grip did slacken. The warmth of his chest was leaving her shoulders. He was backing away, preparing to leave again. She hated it when he left.

Risa, caught by her stubbornness and lured by his odd behavior, wriggled her arm free. She reached behind her and hooked his head with her hand, pulling him down to her upturned face. It was a kiss born of a spontaneous nature; out of character, although not unheard of. And a little unconventional, on the physical side. Her hand held him by the nape of his neck as he was bent over her shoulder, his face forcibly curved down to meet hers.

But it wasn't what she had expected.

She had kissed Dark before; knew the taste of him and the feel. This time she felt neither one as a familiar presence but as something completely foreign. It was soft and sweet, an innocently haunted kiss of darkness and light. It was tentative and unsure, surprise mixed with an absolute unknown rarity. It tasted like the salt of the sea and smelled of fresh, cold nights.

It certainly was not the same, but she liked it better. A whole lot better.

In a flash he broke the kiss, staggering back from her as if she held a plague. Risa spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed and her breath stolen away, but when she turned to him she saw only the swirl of his wings before a blast of wind collided with her face and he was gone, rising into the air with the speed of a bullet and the grace of the moon.

--------

Sweat dotted his brow, but it wasn't from his fight with Dark hours before. He darted through the night sky, the comforting thought of his empty apartment driving him through his physical limitations. He could feel his heart racing and the pulse that beat against his neck was almost suffocating.

A kiss, an unforeseen action executed while he had been distracted. How was he to know she could be so damn forward? He had been preoccupied the entire time, trying to find a clean way out, to escape her presence without her finding out that he wasn't Dark.

He could still feel the brand of her kiss on his lips, a searing sensation he was not at all comfortable with. Somewhere within him he could feel Krad swirling around in anxious anticipation to be freed by emotions rather than forcing his way out. But it seemed Satoshi's body was much too tired even to obey his DNA. Krad remained locked within while Hiwatari began to fall from the sky, the foyer of his apartment building rising up to meet him.

He collapsed on the front stoop, breathless and drained. His cheek lay against the cold concrete, his body temperature dropping and his flesh consuming itself in a fever. There, it was kicking in. The illness he knew would come from his overexertion. This time it felt dangerous, though. He was weaker, hotter, more fatigued. Blood was dribbling from his cuts and his flesh bore many battle scars unseen in their number. He was sick; sick from losing the thing he had sworn to defend and sick from his pains.

Not to mention his pounding heart and a young girl's kiss.

--------

Dark flinched abruptly, glaring over his shoulder as if he expected to see someone looming over him. He hated this feeling of helplessness, the lack of courage that it forced him to hold. He was used to being in command, to taking charge over everything he did. Now he found himself jumping at the smallest sound or the slightest movement, even though he was perched safely in the trees of the park. It was frustrating.

"Come out, Daisuke, I can't take this anymore." With a soft glow and a rustle of leaves Dark closed his eyes a resumed his solitary state within Daisuke Niwa's body. Daisuke, after taking a moment to collect himself, blinked rapidly at his surroundings and at his situation.

"Dark? Did you change us back?" At first there was no answer, but after he prodded his other half for a while he received a reply.

"Yes, I changed back…willingly. Just don't get used to it; it won't be happening often." Although it could not be seen, anyone would have been able to feel the scowl that crossed Dark's face.

Daisuke frowned and sat down on the branch, leaning against the trunk. "Something's wrong with you. You never change back through choice. What's happened? What's going on? Why aren't we back home?"

"We can't go home," Dark snapped. "Not yet anyway. It might start looking there first. Your mom's got enough art to send any treasure hunter crazy, let alone a magical one sensitive to their life force. And if there's a treasure hunter out there with the same sense as I have, then your home is the first place to look." He sounded angry more than scared, but fear was definitely present in his tone.

"A treasure hunter?" Daisuke asked. "One with your powers?" He thought for a moment, trying to digest what Dark was saying. And then a cold notion occurred to him and he sat up straighter against the tree bark. "But how is the Mystic--,"

"Didn't you feel it? That strange sensation that came from the vault before the Commander pulled us out?"

Daisuke shook his head. "No."

"It was the same magic that I can sense from Krad, so I know that that sculpture is Hikari made…but there was something else…"

"Another magic?"

Dark scowled within. "Of course not, no. Something else. It was like feeling a person's emotions." He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke Daisuke had to strain to listen to his inner voice. "It was as if all it wanted was to possess something. It has a need, Daisuke. A need to possess something or someone with all its power. It wants something, obsesses over it. And it's searching…searching for that rarity, that one thing that it must obtain."

--------

Sweet perfumes of the night. Cold cement beneath the skin. The chill of realizing how alive one is. She shivered and savored the feeling. To move again was truly a luxury.

The Mystic looked around. On either side of her the street was lined with flagstone houses and porches of three steps and mailboxes painted red with the cobblestones to close them in. Cherry blossoms were planted in every green patch and the salty sea could be smelled and heard from anywhere. A few lights glowed in the windows but no one was on the street.

Such a town. Such a little town.

She walked on slowly, her feet seeming to not touch the ground at all as she glided along. As much as she would have loved to simply stroll about and soak in the night, the Mystic knew her time was limited…and the pull…the pull inside of her was growing with every second she wasted. If she did not find something soon the pull would surely…she couldn't possibly survive its…

"Where is my dear Hikari?" she whispered. Mist began to gather about her slender feet and fan out, hovering inches above the street as his bled into the town. "The hands that sculpted me…the fires that made me…the wings that freed me…where is he?"

She looked up and down the street, her knee-length hair swirling about her as if floating in water. Her mist grew, filling the space around her in its grey shine. And then the Mystic opened her mouth, and her song, so soft and quiet, tore from her mouth to penetrate the dreams of the sleeping and haunt the minds of those who dared to search for beauty in their lives.

"_Dreams of the wistful, lonely young eyes_

_Clouded with mysteries' lustful lies,_

_I seek a spirit, a soul and a heart_

_And Mystic appearing tear dreams apart…"_

--------

He fumbled with his key, got it into the lock, and nearly lost his balance as he turned the wheels. There was a click and the door opened to his quiet apartment. It was a miracle that he'd gotten out of the street in the first place and another that he'd made it to his home.

He dropped to the floor and kicked the door closed, not even thinking to lock it. Who would come in, anyway? No one ever came to see him. He was a lonely boy; someone not worthy to harbor friends.

With a groan Satoshi sat up and reached for the lock, flicking it closed. The last thing he wanted was Daisuke and the Harada twins barging in on him once again, especially in the state that he was in. They would be the only ones to disturb his solitary existence; to get involved.

He felt a cool sensation spreading across his torso and he lifted his shirt, looking down. The cut there was healing over, looking as though it had been allowed to heal for two weeks. The scar was fresh but secure; unexpected but not unwanted. Satoshi could have laughed. His body was becoming so damaged that Krad had to do something. He had to start healing faster or else Satoshi would be too weak to bow to his wishes.

Oh, how things seemed to just work out. He struggled to his feet, his headache still strong but his fever diminishing with yet another cool sensation to his skin. He walked over to his kitchen and pulled out a glass, filling it with water and then pouring it down his throat. Somehow the touch of glass on his lips reminded him of Risa's kiss, and he felt the stirrings of frustration clouding his mind again.

What a stupid girl; kissing a stranger in the dark like that.

Satoshi pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sleep tugging at every muscle. If gazed upon he would have looked like a simple boy up way past his bedtime. He could feel the sting of the air on his pupils.

_"…mysteries' lustful lies…"_

He straightened up, suddenly alert as the bones of his rib cage mended themselves enough to hold. A horrified shiver traveled up his spine and he could feel the chill of eyes on his neck. He looked around, but there was no one. Naturally.

--------

Risa stared at the water a little longer before throwing back her glass and draining the last of her lemonade. It was sweet, just the way she liked it. Just the way Riku always made it.

She rubbed at her eyes and pushed her hair away from her face. She was tired, very, very tired, but she did not want to sleep. She was too excited. The light of the morning was too bright to spend in bed and her nerves were too jittery to keep her still. She smiled, even thought there really was nothing to smile about.

Risa leaned on the parapet of her balcony and breathed in the salty essence, feeling the brisk air sting her lungs. "Riku!"

Riku's voice echoed to her from somewhere in the house, far enough for her to shout, close enough for her to be audible. "What is it Risa?"

"I want to do something today."

A few moments later Riku came into the room, slowing down her run, her short hair bouncing about her head. She stopped in the entranceway of the balcony, staring at the back of her sister. "Say that again?"

Risa shrugged. "I'm getting bored. Let's do something." She turned around and frowned. "Or are you doing something with Daisuke today?"

Riku shook her head. "No."

"Let's go to the shore," Risa suggested, glancing over her shoulder. "We haven't gone down there together in so long."

"It's because we haven't had much time lately, what with the play and everything," Riku explained. She leaned against the door frame. "Let's make it a picnic. We can have lunch near the waterfront."

Risa smiled widely. "That's sounds great." She pushed off of the balcony rail and skipped over to her sister. "Want me to cook?"

"No."

Risa frowned. "Oh."

Riku smiled. "I'll cook. You can go find us a blanket to sit on."

--------

_Satoshi stared at her, blank-faced and waiting. Her face was a blur to his vision, but he knew it was her; knew that the figure before him couldn't be any less human._

_"My Hikari," she whispered, the echo of her voice resounding off the walls. Walls that he couldn't see. "My sweet, lonely Hikari."_

_Satoshi did not answer…knew that to speak would be to reveal something about himself that he did not want known to this creation. So he waited._

_"You are my only one," she went on. "You are the only one of your kind. You are lonely and isolated and you hold sorrow in your heart. Nobody loves you."_

_It didn't matter that it was true._

_"I am dying."_

_Satoshi frowned. "What?"_

_She began to cry, the sound of her sobs quiet and innocent. "I am dying and soon my glass will be scattered on the streets of your people. I will be blown away."_

_"What are you talking about? You're not human. You can't die."_

_"Everything can die. That is why I must find you, my Hikari. I need…I want…and I can only take yours."_

_Satoshi took a step back. "Take my what?"_

_She was right in front of him now, a faceless woman of immense horrors. "Your life." And then she held up a glass shard and stabbed it into his skull._

--------

Satoshi screamed, sat up, groped around him, trying to find someone through his blurred vision. His fingers touched the solidness of his walls and he could feel the sheets from his bed slide off his skin. He blinked and gasped for breath. He swallowed and reached over to snatch his glasses from the floor. He felt horrid.

He slipped his glasses onto his face and looked around. He was in the safety of his room, his sheets tangled around him and white feathers littering the floor. He rubbed his forehead where a headache was forming as he laid back down to stare at the ceiling. He could remember coming home and struggling to get inside and he could remember staggering into his bedroom, ripping off his shirt and dropping into bed. But the dream…or nightmare…that he had been having was lost to him now. He could recall what it had been about, only that it was giving him quite a brain pounding.

He groaned and glanced at the watch he still wore. Past noon. Despite the headache and a few aches and pains here and there he felt better than he had for days. Krad's power must have healed him during the night. Satoshi guessed that he just had to push himself on the brink of death before he could convince the monster inside of him to contribute to the relationship.

There was a vibrating noise and then the soft ringing of his cell phone. He reached towards the floor again and picked it up.

"Hello?" he half whispered, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead.

"Commander Hiwatari."

"Did you need something, Saehara-san?" Satoshi asked, trying to keep his tone level. He was a boy known for suppressed emotions, but annoyance was slowly building inside of him. "It's still early."

There was a cough through the phone. "Yes, well Commander, I just thought I'd report to you that I think we lost 'The Mystic's Dream' last night."

"You think you lost it?"

"Yes, well, we saw Dark fly away and when we went to go check where he took off from we found a huge hole in the ground opening into an underground vault. My men checked it out and they said other than a few broken shards and a jacket, there was nothing else there."

Satoshi sat up quickly, his heart pounding. "Did you say you found a hole?"

Saehara coughed again. "Yes, Commander. It was gigantic too; almost caved in the entire vault. Looked like some sort of explosive or firework or something completely--,"

"Thank you Detective. Call me again if you get another update." He hung up the phone and threw it over his shoulder onto the bed. "Mon dieu de le Medici," he hissed, a phrase he had picked up at private college from the French Ambassador's nephew; a proud Huguenot. "She's free."

He sprang out of bed and snatched a few clothes from his closet and heading for the bathroom. The one thing he had spent the entire night preventing and, in the end, he failed. Satoshi knew that were he to remedy this mistake he had to act fast, beyond his limitations and his own weaknesses.


	8. He Was Tired

Chapter Eight — He Was Tired

"_The woods are lovely, dark and deep_

_But I have promises to keep_

_And miles to go before I sleep_

_And miles to go before I sleep."_

_--Robert Frost, 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy _

_------------------------------_

Satoshi strode up to his father's mansion, feeling much more energized in the new day. Krad's magic had done wonders for his body, healing the deepest wounds, mending the shallow ones. There were still bruises dark enough to be seen and scratches that were nice and visible, but he was better. Much better.

"Satoshi-dono?"

The guards at the gate frowned at his approach. He ignored it. He realized he was not his usual kept self and that he was less than pristine, but he could do away with perfection for now; there was work to be done.

"Open the gates."

Without a word the men stepped aside and pressed a button that allowed the iron wrought gate to slowly creak open. Without a backward glance Satoshi slipped through and walked up to the house, absently rubbing his left shoulder. He was wearing light clothing, just a loose gray shirt and black trousers, but the weight of it still pulled on his muscles and he could feel a knot forming above his shoulder blade. It was the arm that he had used to drag Dark out of the vault. Bloody thief was heavier than he seemed.

Satoshi did not stop his determined pace until he had entered the mansion, dismissed any servants he came in contact with, and stood outside his father's office, the wooden door inches away from his face. He hesitated only a moment before taking hold of the knob and stepping inside, without knocking.

It was dark, as it usually was, but the curtains were drawn, not even allowing a small sliver of light to slip through. The high backed chair behind the cherry wood desk was turned away, but there was no need to guess who sat in it.

"Father, I need to use your fleet of men and have full access to all of your files and documents associated with the artistic history of the Hikari." Silence followed. Satoshi felt his impatience growing. He did not have time for this. "Father."

The chair moved slightly but did not turn around. A voice was expected, the usual chagrin or indifference, maybe a suspicious questioning, but none of these came. It was hauntingly quiet in the office. Satoshi frowned. He knew this reaction all too well and knew the exact cause for it. It sickened him.

"Father."

The chair moved again. "Take what you need. Whatever you want."

Satoshi waited for him to say more but none came. "Thank you." And then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

He waited in the hallway outside and leaned his back against the door, suddenly drained. The stale silence encased behind him was only one of the many stories recorded in the Hikari dairies on The Mystic's Dream. So powerful was the beauty and magic of the Mystic, so unnaturally real was its countenance that those who had gazed upon it fell into a miserable trance of a sort, encased almost entirely by the statue. It stuck in men's eyes and filled women's hearts. It branded a person with its sight, consuming them so that they thought of nothing but its beauty. Awe…well, it would seem too kindly to call it that. Admiration…more so.

Obsession. Absolutely.

Satoshi recognized that in his father. He was obsessed with the Mystic now that he had seen her, so much so that he no longer cared for anything else. Not his estate, not his welfare.

All the more reason for Satoshi to find the Mystic and a way to destroy it.

---------------------------

Riku had made a wonderful picnic feast, including all the goodies that Risa loved. But Risa couldn't seem to find a temptation for them. She just laid there on the picnic blanket under the parasol, staring up at the blue sky while Riku waded barefoot through the passing waves, relishing in the warmth of the day. The food lay untouched in the picnic basket.

"We haven't done this in a long time," Riku said. "Just relax. I forgot how pretty the beach could be this time of year."

But Risa wasn't listening to her. She was closing her eyes and remembering the night before.

There was something familiar about that kiss. It was the scent, the feel of it. What did it remind her of again? It was a good feeling; something comforting. Things that made her feel safe and calm and serene. Like the night. Like the smell of nightfall, when the air is cool and fresh, mixed with clean cotton. Why did that aroma strike her as familiar?

"Risa, I was meaning to ask you…did you hear the news this morning?"

Risa opened one eye to look at her sister before closing it again. "No. You know I don't like to listen to your radio in the morning. Why?"

"There was something about another theft of artwork, but it was really vague. I think they mentioned Dark as a suspect, but the thing is that nothing was stolen and nobody was spotted."

Risa sat up, fully attentive now. "Well, why did they report it then if there's nothing to report?"

Riku glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "They don't know. Whoever is the Commander of Police issued a warning order. He wanted people to know that there is an artwork stolen and that the police department wants any information about it. But according to any of the officers who were present, there wasn't any artwork at all. Just a vault with nothing inside. Not even a pedestal or glass case." She looked down and kicked at the water around her ankles. "I was just wondering if you'd heard about it, since you like to track Dark so closely."

"No, I haven't heard anything." Risa was glad her sister was facing away because then she wouldn't notice the blush that stole across her face. No, she didn't know about the thievery, but there was a resounding 'yes' on the subject of her contacts with Dark. "But you've never been interested in anything to do with Dark, Riku. Why the interest all of a sudden?"

Her sister paused a moment but then turned to face her sister. "I don't really know, actually. I guess…ever since that night at the museum…" She let her eyes wander and as they looked up an expression of recognition changed her features. "Hey, I think that's…" She smiled her sweet, polite smile and waved.

"Who are you looking at?" Risa asked. Riku didn't answer right away.

"Good morning!" She lowered her arm, still staring at a place above Risa's head and field of vision, probably on the sidewalk up the cliff face. "Oh, well, I think he's coming down to say hi to us."

Risa tried to peer around the parasol. "Who?"

"Hiwatari."

-------------------------

She had been here.

He could feel it.

The Mystic had been roaming the town in the flood of the moon, leaving behind the intoxicating odor of her presence. Satoshi walked along the cobblestone streets and knew that his steps were mimicking hers. She had come this way, but where was she headed?

A glint caught his eye near the cliff railing. When he bent down to pick it up he felt the jolt of magic that is possessed. He almost dropped it.

So.

The Mystic had returned, had been set loose prowl the earth again. She would wreak the havoc that he feared and soon the calls would be coming in: people are missing, people are dying, people are loosing their will to live. Things would get chaotic. Things would get bleak. And all the while the Mystic would be deteriorating. Satoshi held up the piece to the light. It was a shard of glass, spirals of the flame and ice it took to make it swirling together through its clear face. The sunlight shining through it was warped, twisted around in the fashion of ordinary glass, but instead of casting prismatic colors and shapes across his face and body, it cast jagged lines of absolute blue.

A definite piece of the Mystic.

When Satoshi lowered his arm his immediately locked onto the beach below, where the flawless white sands submitted lazily to the coming tide. But there was a difference on the beach today. It appeared in the form of a green parasol and a short-haired girl standing, ankle-deep, in the tide in her pink shirt and blue shorts.

"Good morning!" Riku Harada's greeting was coupled with a smile and a wave. Satoshi didn't want to seem rude, so he waved back, albeit quite unenthusiastically. For a while now he had noticed that Daisuke had found solace and serenity in Riku, and for that he had come to think of her in great respect. Even though she didn't know about Daisuke and Dark, she seemed to accept his absences without diminishing from their relationship. She was a smart girl.

Satoshi thought a moment and then glanced back at the shard in his hand. The Mystic passed through here…maybe if she left behind another clue to her whereabouts Riku might have found it. It wouldn't hurt to talk to her, and he didn't mind. It was only Riku.

He looked for the wooden stairs that led to the beach face. He sighed. Another chase, another disaster at stake. But this time the prospect of catching the perpetrator was not a joyful one. This time it would be laden with fatigue and misery.

Goddamn. He was so very tired of this.

----------------------

"Good morning, Hiwatari-san," Riku said as she watched Satoshi stride towards her down the beach. She frowned a little at the look of him. He looked much healthier than the last few times she'd seen him, and he wasn't limping either, but he didn't look the way he usually did. He looked…haggard? Tired, to be nicer. He was still clean-cut Satoshi Hiwatari, but there was a five o'clock shadow clouding his entire presence.

"Good morning." He glanced back up at the cliff face before he focused his full attention on Riku. "I wanted to ask you something, Harada-san." He stopped at the water's edge, squinting at her through the sun's rays.

"No problem." Riku strolled out of the tide, her the coolness of the water swiftly replaced by the warmth of the sand. "It looks like you're feeling better."

"Uh, yes. Yes, I am."

She smiled. "Daisuke will be happy about that." She noticed that Satoshi looked away at that. Even Daisuke had noticed that Satoshi took to their friendship in a tentative manner; almost as if he felt uncomfortable having a friend in the first place.

"Harada-san, I'm…looking for something that I lost somewhere around here. Have you found or seen anything odd?"

Riku frowned, shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. What are you looking for?"

Satoshi didn't answer directly. "Well, I'm looking for something that could resemble this." He held up his upturned palm and she saw a glinting piece of glass lying in his hand. "Have you seen a piece like this nearby?"

"Oh, that's beautiful," she breathed. She liked the way the sun danced inside of the glass. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't seen anything like that. Have you, Risa?"

When she mentioned her sister's name Satoshi whirled around in surprise, his hand quickly closing on the shard piece. Behind him Risa sat under the parasol, eyeing Satoshi questioningly.

"I don't know. What does it look like?" The way she said it sounded weird, and when she stood up and walked toward them she was looking at Satoshi as if she were angry with him. He, on the other hand, looked, for the slightest second, like a nervous wreck. "Hello, Hiwatari." She didn't even both with being polite.

Satoshi nodded. "Morning, Harada-san." He held back a moment before he offered her a look at his token. "Have you seen anything like this around here?"

She glanced at the shard and then quickly looked back up at him. "No." She held his gaze for a second longer before turning back around and heading towards the refuge of her parasol once more. Riku winced and her rudeness.

"I'm sorry, Hiwatari-san. Risa's been acting…strange lately."

"No need to apologize." He pocketed his shard. "I better be going."

She smiled. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Me too. I guess I'll see you at school." He started to walk away. "And, if you see Niwa, could you tell him…thank you." She nodded.

"Of course, although you could always tell him yourself."

Satoshi only nodded before turning his back to her and walking away. Riku started to watch him leave, glanced at Risa thoroughly ignoring him under the parasol, and then decided that her afternoon had suddenly freed itself and she could do with a good hunt.

"Hey, Hiwatari! Hiwatari-san!"

"Riku, what are you doing?"

But Riku didn't answer her sister; she'd follow her soon enough anyway. "Hiwatari-san!" Satoshi stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, would you mind a little help?"

------------------------

Daisuke slung the shopping bag over his shoulder as he strolled along the sidewalk back home. He never did mind running errands for his mother, but today all he really wanted to do was lie down in his bed and sleep. The magic Dark had used the night before and taken more than a lot out of him, and he felt a good day's rest would help him feel better.

Daisuke sighed. "Just listen to yourself," he said, speaking to no one but his conscience. "Hiwatari probably had to go through a lot more just to resist Krad. I shouldn't be complaining."

_"Don't be so hard on yourself."_

"Dark?" Daisuke had never really heard Dark sound so deadpan before. "Are you all right?"

_"Yes, I'm fine."_ But he didn't sound fine. _"And Daisuke, I'm sorry about last night. I wasn't thinking when I…I should have warned you."_

Daisuke smiled a lazy smiled and continued walking. "You don't have to sound so sad; I'm all right. Tired, but all right." He listened to Dark's grumblings inside of him. "But, then again, that's not the only thing that's worrying you, is it? You're still worried about The Mystic's Dream."

Dark didn't answer.

Daisuke knew better than to press him when he was brooding so he let the conversation die. He continued on at a languid place, dreaming of his bed back at home. But the day was still young, maybe he'd give Riku a call. Or maybe Satoshi to see how he was doing.

A glint caught his eye. Daisuke stopped walking and squinted. Off to the side and hidden underneath some bushes was a large piece of glass, carved smooth on one side and jagged at the other, as if it had broken off of something. "Hey Dark, look at this." Daisuke moved towards and picked it up. The minute the glass was bathed in the sunlight the rays began to dance inside of it. "Wow," he breathed, holding it up between his fingers. The colors that it should have shed didn't appear, only a bold, royal blue.

_"That's an odd trinket,"_ Dark said. _"What do you suppose…?"_

"I don't know, but it's really big." Daisuke laid it across his palm. It practically eclipsed his entire hand. "Whatever this broke off of must have been huge." He looked around. "I wonder what--,"

Another glint.

"Hey Dark, did you see that?"

----------------------------

Satoshi couldn't have put himself in a worse situation if he tried. Here he was, trudging along the beach with none other than the Harada twins in his wake. When Riku had offered to help him he had been hesitant to accept it, but she had insisted on helping him. What was he to do? He had to admit, the extra eyes would be helpful, and right now he wasn't one to deny a better chance at finding the Mystic.

What he hadn't counted on was Risa joining them.

He could tell she was still angry with him after their talk under the cherry trees, and he wasn't all too disheartened by her cold demeanor. He was the only one of the two who knew of their shared kiss, and he did not relish the chance to be in her presence. Yet here she was, unrelenting in her persistence to come with. She hadn't wanted to be left alone.

And here Satoshi was, stalking across the beach in a heat of nerves.

"You're walking too fast!" He closed his eyes in frustration as Risa's voice called to him from somewhere behind. "Could you slow down a bit? It's too hot."

But he didn't slow down. He continued at his rigorous pace.

Behind him Risa scowled at his back. "He's not even listening to me!" Riku, who had been holding back to keep her sister company, shrugged.

"Well Risa, maybe if you were a little nicer he'd be a little slower." She gave her sister a knowing look and then jogged forward to catch up with Satoshi. Risa watched her sister go with narrowed eyes.

"Well if he was a little slower maybe I'd be a little nicer!" She watched Riku level with Satoshi, exchange a few words, and then jog on past, straight for the water. She waded right into the waves and tucked her hair behind her ear, bending over a bit to inspect the sand beneath the waters. Satoshi didn't even glance at her but stared straight ahead. Risa sighed, already bored.

"Hiwatari-san? Hiwatari! Hiwatari!" He didn't respond. She groaned loudly, (enough to make sure he heard), and then ran a little ways so that she wasn't left completely behind. She made it within three feet of him before she called his name again. "Hiwatari!"

Satoshi abruptly stopped walking and spun around to face her. It was such a sudden movement that Risa had to dig her heels into the sand and lean back to keep from knocking heads with him. She had time to note that his usual calm, blue eyes were now searing with the fire of annoyance.

"Harada-san, please. I am very grateful that you and your sister offered to help me, but during this search I would very much appreciate it if we kept the talking, and screaming, to a bare minimum." He was inches away from her face, his breath tickling her skin. She couldn't find any words of retaliation so she nodded instead. "Thank you," was all he used to reply before turning back around and resuming his rapid walk.

That was one of the things that made Satoshi Hiwatari so odd and mysterious compared to the rest of their generation. Although he barely raised his voice higher than its usual baritone, Satoshi could make fires freeze with the intensity of his words. And it was also in his demeanor: that calm, cool way he carried himself. He was always so sure of what he was doing and how to control the people around him. Risa felt her heart pounding. The way he had stared her down had been so absolute that it almost frightened her.

Frightened her, save for the blush that suddenly heated her complexion. That was another of the amazing mysterious of Satoshi Hiwatari.

Without meaning to or being aware of it in any way, Satoshi was incredibly handsome.

"Hey, Hiwatari-san! Risa! Come look at this!"

Both Risa and Satoshi turned to where Riku was. She was some ways out into the water, on top of a rock that jutted out from the sea like a large bowl. The waves were still large enough to climb on top of it, but just barely, so that every now and then water grazed over its top, keeping the bowl filled to the brim every time. Riku was standing along its jagged rim, staring down into its mass of water. "Come out here…I think I've…well, I don't really know what this is."

Risa took a mental note at how far out she was. About twenty feet. She gotten far.

"Riku, do you really want us to go all the way out there? But what about the waves?"

"Oh, you'll be fine, Risa!"

Without a word against it Satoshi headed straight for the water, striding right in. Risa watched him go and, for some reason, took offense to his lack of hesitation.

"All right, I'm coming."

She hurried into the water, momentarily morning her dry skirt. The ocean was cold, and Risa was surprised that her sister and Satoshi were not greatly affected by it. But she sucked in her breath and continued to wade her way through the water, the sand beneath her feet dipping lower and lower as she came closer to the rock.

"Riku, are sure about--," Risa's foot suddenly missed the sand and was stepping down on nothing but water. She started to go under, the water almost completely submerging her face when a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up. She gasped in surprise and saw Satoshi staring down at her, his hand clamped around her wrist. He was already climbing up the rock, his other hand clinging onto a handhold in the stone. Above him Riku was watching, her hand stifling a smile.

"Yeah, about that…it gets a little deep around there."

Risa sputtered. "Thanks for the warning." She reached for the rock as Satoshi hoisted her upward, supporting her until she had found a firm handhold and foothold. She glanced at him and attempted a grin. "And thanks for saving me."

He only nodded. Risa reached up for the rim of the bowl but couldn't quite grasp it. She frowned. She was just a little too short. "Riku, could you help me?" Her sister appeared over the rim again and reached down to give her sister a hand.

"You'll have to boost yourself up a little, I can't reach you."

"Well, how did you get up there?"

"I jumped up and hoped I'd catch the edge."

Risa rolled her eyes. Sometimes it seemed that her and Riku were just a little too different.

"Here." Satoshi was suddenly at her side, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her upward. He was taller than her, so all he had to do was lift her a foot or two and she could reach Riku's hand. Before she could dismiss it, Risa noticed that despite his biting attitude, Satoshi's touch was extremely gentle.

"Geez Risa, you've gotten heavy," Riku grunted as she pulled her sister up beside her. Risa smiled at her.

"It's your cooking that makes me this way." She looked back down and watched as Satoshi gracefully began to climb up next to them. "Here, I'll help you." Risa knelt down and grabbed Satoshi's arm with both hands, aiding in his flawless ascent over the rock rim. He stood up beside her and straightened out his now wet shirt.

"Thank you, Harada-san," he said, mildly surprised by her help. She shrugged and decided to grant him a smile.

"Thank you, Hiwatari."

"Look." Both Risa and Satoshi looked up at Riku. She was pointing inside the bowl, her other hand rubbing her arm nervously. "Hiwatari-san, does that help in finding what your looking for?"

Risa stared at the bowl and then at Satoshi, and by the look on his face it was definitely something of importance.

Inside the carved out hollow of the rock were hundreds of jewels; rubies, pearls, sapphires and diamonds, each twinkling in the mixture of sunlight and seawater. Resting at its center, clearly different from the rest of the gems, was a glass piece broken out in the shape of a crescent moon, the light swirling inside of it casting royal blue prisms on the rest of the treasure.

"Oh my gosh. They're beautiful." Risa knelt down to get a closer look. "How did they get here?" She looked up at Riku who had moved to stand next to her.

"I don't know. The weird thing is that every time a wave comes it doesn't matter how strong it is; none of them move." As if to prove her point a huge wave came crashing over the rim of the rock, splashing into the hollow in such a way that the tiny jewels would have had to move.

None did.

"They're not real." Risa and Riku looked over at Satoshi.

"They're not?" Risa asked. He shook his head.

"No." He stepped forward, right on top of the jewels. Risa started, expecting the delicate stones to crush under his weight, but they didn't. "It's a façade; an illusion to make you think you see beauty when all it adds up to be is nothing but smoke and mirrors." He walked out to the middle of the water and reached down for the glass crescent. The moment he picked it up the jewels dissolved into nothing but ordinary pebbles. The Harada twins stared in amazement.

"Yes, Harada-san, this does help." Satoshi walked back to them and held the transparent moon to his face. "This helps very much." He tossed the glass piece up and a down a few times, testing its weight. Risa straightened up.

"May I see it?"

Satoshi looked at her with a raised eyebrow before surrendering the piece to her. She took it in her hands and was surprised by how heavy it was. It couldn't have weighed more than a pound or two, but the piece she held felt like a lead brick.

"It's odd," she said, turning it over in her hands. "Why is it in the shape of a moon?"

Satoshi shrugged. "I don't know." But in the tone that he said it Risa could tell that he did know, but was unwilling to share.

Riku tilted her head, her brow furrowed. "Hey, do you hear that?"

Satoshi's eyes suddenly widened and he dove for the twins.

"Jump!"

He collided with them, pushing them over the rock edge, towards the deeper waters. He went flying into the water after them as a huge wave came crashing over the opposite edge, strong enough that it flew high up into the air as it bashed into the hollow. Risa screamed as she plummeted into the water, the ocean silencing her cry as it engulfed her. There was a split second of frozen surprise before Risa could open her eyes. Riku and Satoshi had splashed down beside her, both floating around like ghosts. Satoshi opened his eyes to look at both of them and then motioned towards the shore where Risa could see the sand slope slowly upward towards the beach. She nodded with her sister and they started to swim for the shallows. But as Risa kicked she found herself going nowhere.

The weight of the glass was multiplied in the water, and it's volume was now preventing her from swimming. No…it wasn't preventing her from swimming, it was pulling her down into the water, where the ocean's current was stronger.

She began to panic. Even without the glass piece Risa wasn't as good a swimmer as Riku was. She could have dropped it and begun paddling forward for her life, but Satoshi had been so focused on it; had seemed relieved to find it. She couldn't just let it sink by itself.

Risa kicked and kicked but it only made her sink faster. Her pulse was racing. She was loosing breath. She wanted to scream but was afraid too. She looked up and saw Riku and Satoshi heading for the shore. She wanted to call out to them, to bring them back, but how can one cry for help when their voice is taken away by the sea?

-----------------

Satoshi stopped. He had been keeping an eye on Riku to make sure she was safe, but he had forgotten about Risa. How could he forget about Risa?

He pushed the water away from himself and whirled around. There she was, about three yards away from him, her hands still holding tightly to the shard as she slowly sank lower and lower. She was kicking franticly but going no where. She was going to drown.

Satoshi immediately shot forward, parting the water in front of him as he pulled himself closer to her panicking form. When he was a foot away from her she looked up. The expression on her face, one of despair and fear, made him hesitate in surprised.

She looked so scared.

Satoshi floated in front of her face and started to reach for her when she squeezed her eyes shut and sputtered, air escaping her mouth in bubbles. It was no surprise; she had been kicking so hard that she was growing tired, and her muscle were dying for oxygen. She had been trying not to pant or gasp underwater and, in doing so, had choked on her own efforts.

Her eyes began to close; her mouth shaking. She had lost too much air and even though the surface was clearly visible above them it was still too far away. They wouldn't make it in time.

As a Commander, Satoshi Hiwatari had been properly trained in every way necessary to help save a life. He knew CPR and the Heimlich Maneuver. He knew how to bind an open wound and to suck out poison from a sting or a bite. He knew how to stem the blood flow and how to save someone from drowning. And he also knew how to give air when there is no other means to get it.

------------------

Risa couldn't even begin to understand the relief of having Satoshi come back for her. Seeing him hover before her was a weight off her shoulders. At least she wasn't alone. But she could feel her lungs condensing while her heart beat strenuously, and she couldn't help the cough that escaped her lips. That cough contained more than half of the air she had left, and she could already feel the penalty of it.

She was getting dizzy and the water surrounding her was pressing painfully against her chest. Her vision was getting blurry. Her heart seemed too big. Her head was floating. Her eyes were closing.

Then she felt two hands gently cup her face and lips were pressed against her own and they were gentle and sweet and then air was streaming into her lungs and she could feel her head steady a bit and she knew she wasn't given minutes, but she had gained seconds.

Satoshi kept their faces locked together as he kicked upward, hoisting both her weight and the weight of the glass shard towards the surface. Before she knew it her head broke the surface and Satoshi pulled away. She gasped; sucked in a lungful of air..

"Risa, give me the crescent!"

She deciphered his words and held up the moon. Satoshi quickly took it and hooked it into his belt just as another wave rose up to meet them. Riku saw it from the shore.

"Look out!"

Satoshi looked up and grabbed Risa's hands, hooking them around his neck. "Hold on," he commanded, and he dove under just as the wave crashed.

Risa knew she was far too heavy, but she clung to Satoshi tightly. To her surprise he pulled them along with an astonishing ease, gliding through the water nearly effortlessly. At one point she felt her grip slipping, but he quickly caught her wrist, clutching her to his collarbone.

What seemed like hours later the sand came up to meet them, and Satoshi guided Risa from his back towards the shore. She pushed through the water and soon broke the surface once more as she clambered up the sand slope to the waiting shore and Riku.

"Risa!" Her sister ran forward and threw her arms around her, kneeling on the sand where Risa was struggling on all fours. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

She coughed. "Yeah. Yes, I'm okay."

Satoshi came crawling up beside her, collapsing on his back, panting and pulling in the air as if he couldn't get enough. Risa stared down at him, still held tightly in her sister's arms.

"Hiwatari-san, are you--,"

"Yes. I'm fine." He took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. Riku looked back at the sea.

"What was that? The waves were so big and there's hardly a wind!"

"It was the glass shard."

"What?"

He unhooked the moon from his belt and held it up. "The moon is a water bender, calling in the tides and pushing them away again. This glass moon was created to do the same. It was pulling the waves towards us."

Riku looked down at Risa and they exchanged puzzled stares. Neither had any idea what he was talking about.

"Why…how could something be made to mimic the moon?" Riku asked. Satoshi gulped down a mouthful of air.

"It's all part of the façade. The beauty and majesty of the moon was copied, but instead of the beauty this replica brought about disaster." Risa saw that the look in his eyes suddenly changed into an immediate glint of hatred and anger as he stared out at the water. "It will always bring disaster."

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and turned to look at her. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Risa shook her head. "No."

Satoshi waited a moment and then simply nodded, tucking his glasses onto his shirt collar. "Good." He started to move to stand but Risa reached out to stop him. He did, and he looked back at her. Risa slowly pulled out of her sister's embrace and leaned into Satoshi, quietly wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. "Thank you."

At first Satoshi did nothing, and then she felt the same hands that saved her snake around her shoulders and return the hug.


	9. Used, Abused

Chapter Nine — Used, Abused

Satoshi walked back down the beach, Riku at his side and Risa in his arms. The older Harada sister was shivering in her wet state and the younger Harada sister had fainted in Satoshi's arms. The sun still shown brightly above, but it had passed its noonday peak and did not dry their soaking clothes.

"Do you have a way to get home?" Satoshi asked. Riku shook her head.

"Not now, anyway; we were going to be picked up late in the afternoon. I had my phone in my pocket, but it got lost in the water." Riku gathered her hair in her hands and tried to squeeze the saltwater out of it. "How about you?"

He shook his head. "It's not working." He looked down at Risa in his arms. "She needs to rest somewhere, and you need some dry clothes before you get sick." He looked up the cliff face where the street was. "Does anyone you know live around here?" Riku glanced up.

"Niwa."

-----------------------

"Dai!"

Daisuke sat up abruptly in his bed, panning around. He had been on the verge of falling into a good sleep, but had been rudely awakened by the piercing cry of Towa.

"What? What is it, Towa?" he called back. There were a few seconds before she replied.

"Dai, you have some friends here who could use your help!"

_"Daisuke, you have friends?"_ Dark teased. Daisuke rolled his eyes.

"Very funny, Dark," he said, hopping down from his bunk. "But I wonder who it could be." He grabbed his sweater where he'd thrown it on the floor and pulled it over his thin shirt as he raced out of his loft. "Hey, Towa…who is it--?" He stopped running down the stairs when he caught sight of the three new additions to the household. His dad and grandpa were by the window with Satoshi Hiwatari, offering him a towel, his dad smiling good-naturedly. On the sofa was Risa Harada, lying on her back and apparently asleep. And near the foot of the stairs, with Towa beaming as she dried her hair, was Riku.

"Hiwatari, Riku-san!"

Riku and Satoshi looked up at Daisuke as he slowly came down the stairs.

"Niwa!" Riku peeked out of the towel Towa had thrown over her head and smiled up at him. Daisuke smiled back, his heart pounding.

"Niwa." He looked up and saw Satoshi watching him. "I'm sorry to intrude, but we needed a place for them to dry off." His tone indicated the Harada twins only, but Daisuke could see a puddle forming at Satoshi's feet.

"No, no it's fine with me." Daisuke looked at his father and grandfather. "Dad? Grandpa?"

Kosuke grinned. "Of course it's fine. Dai's friends are always welcome in our house." He turned back to Satoshi. "Please, take this." He held up the towel. Satoshi stared at it for a few minutes before meeting Mr. Niwa's beaming face.

"Thank you," he said, and finally took it out of his hands.

"Hey Dad, where did Mom go?"

"Oh! Well, since your friends were here, your mother was horrified that she didn't have enough to make dinner for all of us, so she went out to the market." Towa pulled the towel off of Riku's head. "Come on! Emiko-san said you were more than welcome to borrow some of her clothes."

Riku started to protest, shaking her head and speaking sweetly. "No, really, I'm fine. We just wanted to dry off--,"

"Absolutely not," Towa commanded. "You'll get a cold staying in those wet things, and Emiko-san would never forgive me if Dai's girl got sick."

"Towa!"

She giggled madly as Daisuke's face reddened. Riku had to bow her head to hide a smile.

"And I don't think Dai would forgive me either." She grabbed her hand. "Come, it's this way." And before Riku could protest any more she was pulled into the hallway.

"Daisuke, why don't you take Hiwatari-kun upstairs and give him something to change into as well," Kosuke offered. Satoshi pulled the towel away from his face and looked up.

"No, I'm fine, really."

"It's okay, Hiwatari. I don't mind. Come on up." Daisuke started to retreat back up the stairs and then stopped. He looked over his shoulder. "Really, I don't mind. You can come up." He hurried up the stairs and listened carefully. Soon, the measured steps of Satoshi began to follow him.

_"You take the saying 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer' very literally, Daisuke,"_ Dark said as Dai threw open his closet. _"If you've forgotten, then let me remind you: He's Krad."_

"He's not Krad," Daisuke defended. He ciphered through his clothes, trying to find something that would fit Satoshi. "He's just Hiwatari and still my friend. Don't worry so much."

_"I never worry. I just…think ahead."_

Dai laughed. "Sure." He found a green shirt that was a little too big for him, but he was still half a head shorter than Satoshi, so none of his trousers would do. "I'll have to give him some of your clothes, Dark. You're a lot taller than I am."

_"What! No way!"_

"Niwa?" Daisuke whirled around to Satoshi waiting in his doorway, the towel slung over his shoulder. "I need to talk to you."

"Here, I found some clothes that might fit you." He held out the shirt and pants. Satoshi took them from him.

"Thanks." But he didn't move. "Niwa, I need to ask you about last night…when we were at the vault."

Daisuke's smile dropped, but he didn't frown. He looked completely somber. "What is it?"

"When I left, did you see anything unusual come out of the vault?"

"No, you sealed it."

Satoshi nodded and stared down at the clothes in his hands. "I know, but I got a call from Detective Saehara. He said that there was a hole up there and when he went down to investigate there was nothing." He looked up. "Did Dark--,"

"Dark didn't take it."

Hiwatari let out a long breath. "That means The Mystic's Dream got away."

"Got away? What do you mean, got away? Did someone else take it?"

He shook his head. "No one took it." Satoshi pulled away from the door and sat down on the sofa under the window. "The Mystic's Dream is a living art, Niwa."

_"What?"_

"What?" Daisuke echoed. Satoshi just looked at him with all sincerity reflected in his eyes.

"Niwa, this time I'm dealing with something I can't stop on my own, and I don't want to risk it. The Mystic's Dream isn't just an artwork. It's…more than that. And more than I can handle."

Daisuke took a moment to absorb this. "Hiwatari--,"

"I'm asking for your help, Niwa."

--------------------------

Risa could feel herself regain consciousness but her eyes weren't opening. Sounds started to become audible but still undistinguishable. There were voices, but they were distant. And there were footsteps, but they were muffled. Risa wanted to wake up, but she seemed to have forgotten how.

She couldn't even remember how she had ended up asleep.

There, finally. Her eyes were opening, even if only the slightest bit. There was an afternoon sun shining across her face and the soft down of a sofa under her weight. She was on her back, her head supported by a feather pillow. Her damp clothes clung to her like skin.

She opened her eyes a little wider and moved her head. It only swiveled a bit. Somewhere by the window were two men talking in even tones. She thought she heard her sister's voice, but it was coming from somewhere she couldn't see, and the footsteps were still muffled, but they were getting louder.

Was that Daisuke coming down the stairs? It had to be him; no one else could have that red blaze of hair. He was talking to someone and looking up over his shoulder. Who was it?

She saw feet appear first, then legs and hips. Black trousers. They looked like Dark's.

Dark's!

A waist and a torso. A naked waist and torso. Then shoulders and arms pulling a green shirt over a crown of blue hair, glasses, and a pair of azure eyes that looked over at Risa.

She remembered those same eyes staring her in the face, blanketed in water, looking at her and only her. They were accompanied by hands that grasped her face; hands made sweeter by the ocean. Then there had been a kiss…

"Harada-san? Harada-san?" It was Daisuke's voice. Risa was about to answer him, but sleep beckoned to her, and she found it much easier to obey.

----------------------------

"Oh. I guess she's still out of it," Dai observed. He turned back to Satoshi who was looking over his shoulder at the sleeping Risa. "How do those clothes fit?"

"Uh, they're fine." He took off his glasses and cleaned them on the front of his shirt before gingerly replacing them. "Thank you."

Daisuke smiled and glanced out the window. Based on the position of the sun he guessed that it was sometime around three or four in the afternoon. "Hiwatari, you are going to stay for dinner, aren't you?"

Satoshi froze and let his eyes rest on Daisuke. "No—I better get home. But I'm sure the Haradas would like to stay--,"

"Hiwatari, I'm asking you as a friend. It's okay."

The two held one another's gaze for a moment, both trying to decipher the other's thoughts. Daisuke knew that he genuinely wanted Hiwatari for a friend, but that the ultimate choice lay with Hiwatari. As for Satoshi, he still needed to speak about the matters of The Mystic's Dream with Daisuke, and he knew that he needed his help…and, though he didn't want to admit it, he needed his friendship as well.

Satoshi nodded and Daisuke accepted it.

"Dai!" Towa's trademark cry echoed through the household. Daisuke winced.

"Yes, Towa?"

The feisty Guide poked her head out of the hallway. "Is your mother home yet? I'd like to get dinner started."

"No, not yet."

She frowned. "Emiko-san is taking awfully long." She looked over her shoulder and smiled at someone in the hallway. "Well, I don't think Emiko-san will mind. Besides, it looks cute on you!" She reached behind her and dragged Riku out into the living room. "Here, you can stay with Dai and Hiwatari-dono until I can get some food on the table." And she pushed Riku towards Daisuke and Satoshi before retreating back into the hallway.

Satoshi nodded politely to Riku and received a polite smile in return. When he neither heard nor felt anything from Daisuke next to him he stole a glance. Daisuke was just staring. He looked back at Harada. She was blushing. He rolled his eyes and tried not to smile.

Riku Harada did look very pretty in her blue skirt and sweater, but to be honest it wasn't that amazing of an ensemble. But knowing Daisuke and Riku's tentative relationship, the outfit was enough.

Satoshi suddenly felt as if he were intruding on the two, so he quickly backed away and sauntered over to stand near the window, pretending to be interested in the traveling sun. He was suddenly struck by the thought that whatever Niwa was feeling at the moment would be an emotion Satoshi wasn't sure he'd ever get the chance to experience.

And although the thought had seemed a jaded wondering in previous days, Satoshi found that now the concept made him incredibly sad.

-----------------

It was close to evening now. The sun was starting to slowly set, but only just, so that everything was bathed in a glowing golden and red light. Dinner had come and gone with everyone filling themselves with Emiko's culinary delights save for Risa, who had slept through the afternoon.

Now Kosuke and Daiki were sitting in the backyard, drinking the lemonade Emiko had brought out for them and relaxing to the growing sounds of the coming nightlife. Towa was upstairs, cleaning Daisuke's room and Emiko herself had slipped into the hidden room that held all of the family's stolen art, which left Daisuke, Satoshi, Riku, and a sleeping Risa together in the living. Riku had left the room momentarily to call home for a ride, but her sister seemed oblivious to the world, dozing so soundly that Emiko had thought it extremely rude if anyone were to wake her.

"I'll have something warm for her when she wakes up," Daisuke's mother had promised.

But waking up seemed to be something of a myth, for Risa's eyes had remained closed all the afternoon. Satoshi stared at her from the other side of the room. She had been through a lot that day, so it was natural that she'd be physically drained. He just wished that she were abed somewhere else. She looked far too peaceful for his liking.

"Hiwatari."

Satoshi looked up as Daisuke came around his chair, taking a seat on the sofa across from him.

"Yes?"

He was rubbing his neck, nervously. He lowered his voice. "I — uh — do you remember when you asked Dark how he knew about The Mystic's Dream? How any of us had known?"

Satoshi's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I remember. The Hikari's had never mentioned it in any of their recorded histories. Alluded to it: maybe. But only someone who'd known about the Mystic would have known it was spoken of in their documents." He looked at Daisuke over his glasses.

"Yeah…well…our family found out about the Mystic through — well, through a storybook."

"A storybook?" Daisuke was staring down at his hands and not at Satoshi. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "Well, my mother and grandfather…they were the ones who told me about the Mystic, and when I asked about it the most they had ever said was that it was in a fairy tale; and that was just this morning." He looked up and smiled meagerly. "That's what they told me, at least."

"May I see this storybook?"

"Er…yeah. Let me go find my mom. She should have it." He started to leave but halted. "Will you be okay here by yourself? I feel bad just leaving you and Harada-san alone."

Satoshi raised one hand in a sort of peaceful surrender. "It's okay, Niwa."

Daisuke shrugged sheepishly and, with a quick glance towards the hallway where Riku was, left the room via the door his mother had disappeared behind. Satoshi took his exit with great relief. He sighed and let his head fall back against his chair.

Tired…tired…he was always tired. He made a mental note to rest better that night. Sleep longer and without dreams. Or nightmares. But how was someone supposed to escape a nightmare?

Satoshi felt his body instantly slacken, his heartbeat slow down, and his breathing deepen. Tired…always tired…

Someone was groaning and moving. It sounded like a girl newly waking up from across the room, but he didn't care anymore.

It felt so good to fall asleep.

Besides, he was so tired…

---------------------------

_He saw Krad and The Mystic._

_They were together, standing face to face, staring at each other. Krad was looking down with fiery eyes of amber, and the Mystic looked up with prismatic eyes of every hue of blue. His clothes were white and hers were a silvery gray, and behind towered his wings while her fanning garments billowed with the essence of water._

They stood alone on separate ways

Two pillars made of ice and snow

_"You are the creation of My Hikaris. You are their greatest masterpiece." The Mystic spoke with a voice of music, so when Krad answered it rumbled in Satoshi's gut and pounded his head with its baritone._

_"I do not belong to them. I have become more than their work; I have become my own masterpiece."_

_The Mystic took a step forward. "You say that now, but it is not true. If you are not their artwork then why do you cleave to them so? Why must you dog their shadow, generation after generation? Because you cannot leave them, no matter your desire."_

_Krad scowled at her. "Neither can you. You can't even come to life without your precious moonlight, and you were locked away by our creators. How can you say you belong to them when they have forgotten all about you?_

And on into the passing days

They hadn't the heart to stay or go

_The Mystic took another step towards Krad and, in doing so, suddenly began to step into her previous form. Her feet instantly solidified into their glass state; her legs had frozen in their releve upwards. She reached for Krad, touched his cheek, and he recoiled with such loathing and fear. _

_"They have not forgotten me. They can never forget me. I have their wondrous curse upon me and I will carry it until the end. They belong to me just as much as I belong to them. They cannot escape me." She was frozen to the waist now. With a stretch of her arm she was able to brush her fingers across Krad's face once more, her touch barely caressing his cheek. And there was a look there that had never been there before._

_Sadness?_

_"We are lost…unknown…confused…" she whispered, and then titled her head towards the sky and assumed the prison she was destined to always return to…_

------------------------------------

Risa sat up slowly and looked around herself. Everything was golden in the Niwa living room and she could just make out Satoshi Hiwatari quietly slumbering through her sleep sodden eyes. She rubbed them and pushed her hair away from her face, yawning. An itchiness spread through her body and she realized that the clothes she was wearing had gone damp and uncomfortable during her sleep. She tugged at her neck collar. She wanted to change.

A deep sigh caught her attention from across the room. Satoshi had let out a breath and sunk deeper into his seat. She tilted her head and studied him. He looked so relaxed; more so than she had ever seen him to be. Even when he was asleep during the field trip way back when…he hadn't looked completely at peace. But it had never occurred to her, or to anyone really, that Satoshi Hiwatari was a tense person. Maybe it was the way he approached things: always calm and in control. Though, seeing him in this state made him look very, very tired.

At the back of her mind she found it to be endearing.

She quietly got up from her seat and moved closer to him. She didn't know why, but it seemed the proper thing to do to remove his glasses while he was sleeping. She gently reached forward, slipped them off his face and carefully folded them and placed them on the coffee table. Her eyes lingered on them for a moment as she thought back to the incident in the water. How strange, that even with all those waves and the current his glasses still stayed on.

She rubbed her hands together nervously and glanced around. Somehow, through her unconsciousness, she had heard fragments of what was going on in the Niwa household. There had been dinner and conversation and some laughter mixed with nervous kindness. Words had blurred in their transfer from the air to her sleeping brain, but she was certain she had heard something about dry clothes for her sister and herself.

Risa suddenly straightened up and looked around. Where was Riku anyway?

She scanned the perimeter of the room when she spotted a folded pile of clothes resting on the backrest of the sofa. So she hadn't dreamt about the dry clothes.

Tentatively, but with much relief, Risa picked up the downy pile and guessed on which door led to the bathroom. Luckily, on the first try, she was right. She quickly slipped in, stripped down to her undergarments and snatched a towel from the rack to dry off. She hated the feel of the salt residue that clung to her skin. She scrubbed herself until she was satisfied and dressed in the alien clothing. They were surprisingly the right size: and only slightly loose, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts. She donned them and snatched a band lying on the sink, (an accessory Niwa's mother surely wouldn't miss), and threw her hair up, wrapping it around just enough so that it stayed off her neck.

Clean and refreshed Risa sat down on the floor and let out a long sigh. For some reason she had felt rushed. Why? She wasn't sure. Was she afraid someone would walk in on her? But not in the Niwa house; the family was too sweet. Then what was it? Why had she felt inclined to finish her tasks so immediately and quickly?

Nerves. She looked down at her hand and could see it shaking.

"Risa?"

The muffled sound of her name snapped Risa out of her momentary stupor. Crawling on her hands and knees, she reached up for the doorknob and creaked it open, peering back into the living room. There was her sister, standing in the middle of the room and half whispering half calling her name so as not to wake the sleeping Hiwatari.

"Right here," she said, and she pulled the door open all the way and stood up. Her sister smiled lazily at her.

"Our ride will come in a little bit. I just called." Risa nodded but she didn't say much. She just stared at her sister, her eyes slowly brimming with tears. Riku saw them and immediately knew the remedy. "Shut up and come here."

As it was always the duty of the younger sister towards the older, Risa hurried forward and wrapped her arms around her sister's middle, squeezing her tight and taking solace in her arms.

"I was so scared," Risa sobbed, although her voice was barely above a whisper. "I could see you swimming away and I knew I couldn't call you back. I thought I was going to die."

"I know," Riku replied. "I know. All afternoon I kept thinking of what would have happened if Hiwatari-san hadn't turned around…hadn't seen you or saved you. We owe him a lot, after today."

"Yes," Risa answered. "We do."

Riku held her sister at arms length. Her face was grim. "You know," she said, "you could have just let go of the crescent. It was the only thing weighing you down. You should have just dropped it."

"But I couldn't, Riku." Risa glanced at the sleeping boy and then back at her sister. "Did you see his face when he saw it? It meant so much to him. I couldn't just let it disappear."

Riku pursed her lips. "I thought you were mad at him."

A pause. "I—I know. But still, if something means that much to a person it wouldn't matter if I didn't like them. It would just seem cruel to lose it like that."

"So you would rather gamble your own life?"

Risa started to open her mouth and then closed it right away.

Why had she had the sudden urge to say yes?

--------------------------------------------------

When Daisuke finally returned, tome cradled in his arms, he entered upon a scene of tranquility. Riku and Risa had made themselves comfortable on the couch, speaking in quiet whispers so as not to wake the dozing Satoshi in the armchair. Daisuke smiled to himself. He'd never had all his friends over before.

"Niwa." Riku smiled up at him as he approached and Risa quickly rose to her feet to bow graciously.

"Thank you, to you and your mother, for letting me borrow dry clothes."

Dai only smiled at her and shrugged. "It's only the least we can do. Do they fit?"

"Yes. Perfectly."

"I'm glad." He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen. "You must be hungry; you did sleep through dinner. My mom and Towa left you some food, for when you woke up."

Risa returned the smile. "Thank you, so much."

He shook his head. "Not at all. Please, help yourself. All of it's there on the table. They said have as much as you like."

Apprehensively, if not determinedly, Risa brushed past Daisuke and into the kitchen.

"Hey, Niwa, what is that your holding?"

"Oh. Uh…well, I was actually bringing it for Hiwatari, but I guess he was a lot more tired than I thought. It was a book that I wanted him to read."

"It's awfully old," Riku observed, tilting her head and inspecting the leather cover. "Gold inscribing and cotton pages. What's it about?"

"I think," Daisuke started, flipping back the cover, "it's a book of fairy tales."

Riku raised her eyebrows, but it was Risa who voiced her thought from the kitchen. "Fairy tales? Like 'once upon a time' and 'happily ever after'?"

"Not really. These fairy tales are dated to be much older; the original versions. Which probably means that they're darker and have a lot less 'happily ever after' than the ones we're used to. Death mixed with beauty mixed with tragedy." He leafed through the pages, scanning over ink-written words and sketches.

"That doesn't seem like the kind of novel Hiwatari-san is keen on," Riku noted. "I never thought him to be a 'fairy tale' type. What was it that you wanted to show him?"

Daisuke wasn't sure how much he could say to the Harada twins. The truth of Satoshi's identity was still an intense secret, and if he were to reveal something better left unsaid then questions would arise and Hiwatari would find himself in a very awkward position.

"I'm not really sure," he answered, and it was partially true. "I just thought he'd like to see it."

--------------------------------------

_She was crying. Crying tears of white fire that dripped from her eyes, thick as mercury; dropping to the ground in searing masses. The soft gasps that escaped her, the intakes of breath, were beautiful notes. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to lock in her emotions, but it was to no avail._

_She was kneeling down, naked, her vast sheet of hair pooling about her; cloaking her. She hid beneath it as she wept. She was looking down at something. Something with his head laid across her lap, his eyes closed and his body limp._

_Beneath his back a pair of pearl, white wings were crushed under his weight._

_She stroked his hair, weeping all the time. Her crying was like a ballad. Like a sad song. She looked up, her eyes brimming with silver._

_"I loved a man of stone,_

_But he left me all alone_

_In the shadows of my sorrow and all of my pain_

_And the curse that stole my heart_

_Is the curse that will break me apart_

_And the love that I love,_

_Will I love in vain…"_

_She bent down and kissed his lips, light and airy and filled with regret, before she straightened up, one hand cupping his sleeping face. She was dressed now, donned in black smoke, and from the folds of her new garments she extracted a dagger red as blood._

_"I kill the man I love upon this day._

_But please,_

_Don't look at me that way…"_

_She placed the tip of the dagger upon his chest and, with both hands, placed her palm flat against the base of the hilt and pushed, sending the sharpened point deep, deep, six inches deep into the chest of Krad as his eyes snapped open in pain and he cried out in horror…_

_----------------------------_

"NO!"

"Towa!"

Daisuke almost fell over in surprise. Next to him Riku jumped to her feet and Risa nearly dropped everything she was holding in the kitchen. Towa had suddenly come charging down the stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her raucous called even Kosuke and Daiki from outside; called Emiko from the basement, but it didn't call Satoshi from his sleep. Towa had fallen to her hands and knees, her eyes blanked out into a solid, midnight blue, staring off into an unseen distance.

"NO! Leave him alone! You cannot take it! You are not allowed a life!" She was screaming, crying, reaching for something no one could see.

"Towa, what is it? What's the matter?" Emiko had dropped down next to the Eternal Guide, grabbing her shoulders and trying to calm her down. The others just watched on in stunned silence, too afraid to try and understand what was happening.

"She is taking too much! She is singing too long! Somewhere in the silence she is waiting and nothing will stop her for the beauty she holds is magic and all over her voice is sounding and we cannot deny the seduction of her song. She dances on air, touches our dreams, feeds our desires and makes everything dim in her glowing light. She seeks something, longs for something, obsesses to possess and will never give while she falls to pieces, one by one, and her glass will be scattered with the shine of false beauty and no one can feed it but the one she seeks…and the one she seeks is the one we are not allowed to touch…NO! THE MOONLIGHT IS COMING!" She scrambled to her feet in a frenzy and started running, heading for the hallway, darting towards the front door. "I must find it!"

"Towa!" Daisuke jetted after her first, worried for her safety and where she might go. Kosuke and Risa helped Emiko to her feet.

"Niwa, wait!" Without hesitation Riku ran after him, her nimble frame matching his speed easily. She was gone within seconds. Emiko frowned, her hands clenched together in worry.

"Where is she going?" she asked, her voice laden with concern. Kosuke shook his head.

"I don't know, but something is terribly wrong."

"Go then. Take care of Dai." He nodded briefly before he too was gone. Only Emiko, Daiki and Risa were left behind, the open door still swinging on its hinge. Emiko sighed.

"Something is horribly wrong. Towa's found something and it's not pleasant." She gently removed Risa's hands from her arms. "Excuse me, my dear, but I need to…. I'll be right back. Please, wait here for the others."

Risa nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you. Come on, Dad." And she once again retreated to the doorway leading to the basement, Daiki bowing to Risa and then following after his daughter. Risa watched them disappear, leaving her alone in the living room by herself. Everyone had left so suddenly; things had switched in moods in a matter of seconds. Why had Towa suddenly screamed like that? And what had she been talking about?

Something about moonlight…

Risa glanced toward the window. True, twilight was coming to a close; the golden light was fading slowly into deep blue, but it would be at least a couple of hours before any form of moonlight appeared. But she had been spouting out words in succession, speaking without breath and with so much urgency. And who was it that she was talking about?

"_Dreams of the wistful, lone young eyes_

_Clouds of mysteries' lustful lies,_

_I seek a spirit, a soul and a heart_

_And Mystic appearing tear our dreams apart…"_

Risa whirled around, the tingling sensation of watching eyes boring onto her unprotected back. She had heard a voice just now; something deep and melodious, singing a song with such exquisite beauty and grace. Who could sing like that, with an ethereal smoothness and such wonder? Was she imagining it? No, she couldn't. She had definitely heard a song, a voice. Something was happening all around; outside the world was getting rapidly darker, the room they were in was getting colder, and, unbeknownst to her, the glass crescent piece sitting on the coffee table was coming to life with a soft glow pulsating at its center.

"_Come to me darkness, servants of light_

_Cloak and hide their sins from sight_

_Find me my spirit, my soul and my heart_

_Give me the man who has torn my dreams apart…"_

She spun around, the song was so close she could feel it's lyrics in her ear. But no one was there. The room was empty. Fear began to mount heavily in her chest and Risa backed away, casting a wary eye on everything around her. She moved closer to Satoshi, seeking solace from the only other person in the room.

"Hiwatari," she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly, afraid that she might provoke the phantom voice to sing again. "Hiwatari, wake up."

"_Dreams of the wistful, lone young eyes_

_Clouds of mysteries' lustful lies…"_

"Wake up, wake up." She shook him, her adrenaline mounting. The song was so beautiful and peaceful to listen to, but hidden in its underbelly was a great and terrible echo that cast darkness over the words. It came at her from all sides, from the floorboards and the roof tiles, from the cracks and the seams. She knelt down next to the sleeping Satoshi and shook him, her face close to his, almost on the verge of screaming into his ear. "Please, please wake up!"

------------------------------

_She was dancing._

_Beautiful, graceful. When she turned, her dress twirled after her. She reached her hand upward, asking, wanting. Her shapely leg lifted and extended towards the sky, elegant feet pointed, the line seamless. Her head turned and swiveled and her arms opened, closed, called in the night air and embraced it to her breast. Her feet never even seemed to touch the floor. And they didn't. She danced upon a layer of mist suspended a foot above the ground._

_He watched with interest, curiosity and intrigue. Yet he was not completely entranced nor was he absolutely obsessed. She was enchanting, yes. She was magical, yes. Every word and every description to portray majesty could be applied to her._

_She just wasn't real enough._

_"Who are you?" he asked. "Why are you here?"_

"I am looking for something. Something to save my life."

_"But you don't have life."_

_She went on, dancing and dancing. _

"I'm coming apart. I'm falling to pieces. I have been scattered across the town."

_"Why?"_

"I'm running out of time." _She swung her leg, rond de jambe, arabesque, it pointed to the sky. _"Can you see the moon? My hourglass is running out and the sands are falling too fast. I must find…" _But she didn't finish._

_"Where are you now?"_

_She turned, leapt into the air and flew to him. She landed catlike and silent at his feet before straightening up onto releve till they were eye to eye. Her eyes blazed with mercury blue._

"I'm here."

----------------------------------------------

Satoshi's eyes snapped open, he yelled, grabbed the Mystic by the shoulders and leapt to his feet, keeping her locked in his grip. She cried out, her body seizing up in surprise. He blinked rapidly for a moment, trying to regain his vision, but it remained blurry and unfocused. Still, even without them, there was no mistaking the dark hair and wide eyes of Risa Harada as she looked up at him in stunned silence, her hands on his chest in a feeble attempt to push him away.

"Harada-san?" he asked, staring down at her in confusion. How had the Mystic suddenly transformed itself into Risa Harada?

"Hiwatari…? Um…your glasses are on the table." He blinked and looked down.

"Oh." He set her free from his grasp and retrieved his glasses, placing them securely over his eyes once more. The blurred edges of the room came into a new sharpness and he looked down at Risa with a calmer demeanor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"People aren't usually so alert when they just wake up," she commented, rubbing her shoulders. Satoshi shrugged, not wanting to explain that he had been trained in such a way.

"Bad dream," was his only response. He stepped back from her, their closeness unnerving. "You're finally awake."

"So are you. Hiwatari, Niwa-kun is gone."

Satoshi's breathing almost stopped. "What?"

"He's gone. Just a moment ago Towa-chan came running down the stairs babbling about someone taking what they shouldn't and then she yelled that the moonlight was coming and ran out of the house. Niwa-kun went after her and Riku and his father followed. Emiko-san and her dad went into their basement, but she told me to wait here." She rubbed her arm nervously. "I don't know what's going on, but the minute everyone left there was this strange feeling and then I heard—I heard singing."

"Moonlight…" He habitually looked down at his watch. "What time is it--?" His watch was dead; a newly acquired function, compliments of too much seawater. "Damn." He looked out the window, where the distant skyline had suddenly transformed into an inky night, the glow of the sun only lingering now behind the oncoming shadows. If one looked up they'd be able to see the stars already.

"Wow, it got dark fast," Risa commented. "It was still sunset a few minutes ago."

"Night--," The way Satoshi said the word made Risa look up at him in confusion, wondering why he seemed so suddenly attentive.

"What's wro--,"

He held up his hand to silence her but there was no need. There it was again, the same voice, singing. No words, just her voice, surrounding everything; so faint and yet completely audible.

"What is that?" she whispered. Satoshi glared above, as if he could see the voice and its owner hovering over their heads. "Where is the singing coming from?"

"From moonlight."

Risa looked at Satoshi. "What's going on?"

"_I seek a spirit, a soul and a heart,_

_This Mystic shall rise and tear your dreams apart…"_

"It's coming here," he said, stepping away. "It knows to come here. How does it know?"

"What are you talking about? You're starting to scare me, Hiwatari. What's coming here?"

But Satoshi ignored her. He ran to the glass door leading to the backyard and, after quickly scanning the perimeter, yanked the curtains shut. "Harada-san, turn off the lights."

"What?"

"Turn off the lights."

"Why?"

"Hurry!"

She immediately jumped into action, hurrying over to the light switch and flicking off the light. The room was suddenly doused in darkness; only a sliver of silver moonlight could be seen through the part in the curtain, slicing the room in two.

Moonlight…

"It's already night," Risa said. "But, that can't be possible. Wasn't it just twilight?"

"It's calling for the darkness. It thrives in its precious moonlight." He sidled over to the table and snatched up the crescent moon. Its pulsating was getting stronger. "We need to go," he said, walking over to Risa. "We need to go now."

"Go? Go where? After Daisuke?"

"It doesn't matter, just as long as we can get away from here."

"But why? We don't even know where Towa-chan and the others went--,"

Satoshi cut her off and grabbed her arm. "We're not trying to find them." He tugged her forcibly, albeit gently, and led her out into the hall and towards the front door.

"Hiwatari, wait. Emiko-san told me to wait for them here."

"It's too dangerous here. Its going to find us…"

They both stopped. The song…

…getting louder…

…surrounding them…

_…cloak and hide their sins from sight…_

The blood drained from his face.

"No," he whispered.

In his palm the crescent suddenly blazed with life.

------------------------------

"Towa! Towa, where are you going!" Daisuke ran after her, pushing himself to the limit, but even his thief training couldn't seem to be enough. Towa wasn't just Towa but the Eternal Guide now, racing across the asphalt as if carried by wings. But she remained in human form, her eyes blank and staring off into a distance no one could see. "Stop!"

"Niwa!" Riku was close behind him, her feet pushing off the sidewalk in her attempts to keep up with Daisuke. She had never known he was so fast before…

"Towa," Daisuke called again. "What are you looking for?"

"Not her…" the Eternal Guide whispered to herself. "Not her…too powerful…. I must find the other…"

-----------------------------

"What is that!" Risa cried, staring at the blazing cerulean light emanating from the moon piece. Satoshi didn't answer.

"Come on." He took her by the hand and set off at a run, darting back into the living room, Risa in tow.

"We're going back now? I thought we were supposed to be leaving?"

He shook his head. "There's no more time for that. She's knows were here." He held up the piece tightly in his hand. Such a stupid move; he knew she would be looking for it, trying to put herself back together again. And, even though he knew this, he still kept it, bringing it directly to Niwa's house. A lapse in his judgment. A ridiculous mistake.

He clung tightly to it and bounded upward, taking the stairs two at a time. Risa struggled behind him, trying to match his long stride with her own. "Hiwatari, wait! I can't keep up…!"

_….I seek a spirit, a soul and a heart…_

"Harada-san, hurry!" There was only a couple more steps before the top landing, but she lost her footing and tripped. By instinct Satoshi turned around and threw out his arms, catching her before she fell all the way back down. In doing so he dropped the moon on the carpet of Daisuke's room, where it hit the floor with a resounding ring that filled the air around them and burrowed deep into their heads.

"Hiwatari! Wh—what is that?" Risa cried, clinging onto him for dear life and smothering her face into his chest, trying to muffle the sound. "What is it doing?" Satoshi clenched his eyes shut and hoisted her up to the landing, trying in vain to block out the high pitched cry of the glass moon.

"The Mystic," he said. "She's here."

-----------------------

**A/N:** 'The Mystic's Dream' is actually a song sung by Celtic singer Loreena McKinnett. The song was made for the TV miniseries 'The Mists of Avalon' by Marion Zimmer Bradley, one of my favorite books. Anyway, if you can find the song I suggest you listen to it. I didn't create 'The Mystic' based on the lyrics so much as I based her on the feel and essence of the song. I, myself, am a professionally trained dancer, so when I hear a piece of music I automatically set a dance to it. And when I heard this piece the fluid, ethereal, water-like movement of The Mystic popped into my head.

Anyway, that was a little history on 'The Mystic's Dream' and, for the future I hope to have the next chapter uploaded much sooner and with much more happening than in this one. Thanks for reading!


	10. An Angel in the Monster's Lair

Chapter Ten — An Angel in a Monster's Lair

"'_Tis now the very witching time of night,_

_When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out_

_Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood_

_And do such bitter business as the day_

_Would quake to look on."_

_--from Shakespeare's tragedy 'Hamlet, Prince of Denmark'_

------------------------------

She stepped down lightly from the air onto the cool surface of the sidewalk, the hem of her dress fluttering down about her ankles. Up above the moon bathed her in its glow, illuminating the quiet home waiting before her and its simple, waiting door. From inside the pulse of her beacon called.

_"Yes,"_ she answered back. _"I'm coming."_

-------------------------------

Satoshi swooped down and snatched the glass piece back up, pulling on Risa's hand as he went. "Come on! We haven't much time!" He darted into Daisuke's room and, unceremoniously, pushed Risa to the side. He placed the glass moon at the center of the floor where it continued to steadily glow in isolation.

She was already here, lurking in her shadows, finding her time to pounce. Satoshi had to act fast and destroy the beacon before she could find them. She was using the crescent as a tracking device; her only means of finding them. The minute the magic within it was sealed the scent would be broken and they'd become invisible to her again.

It was her magic that she used to see and feel and touch and hear. If her magic became obsolete then so would all her other senses.

He knelt down next to the glass piece and touched his index finger to the carpet next to it. _I hope I can remember this,_ he thought to himself, and began to mutter the spell under his breath…

"Nunc lento _"Now, this bell tolling_

sonitu dicunt_ softly for another, says to me_

Morieris…"_Thou must die…"_

A red light began to spill from his fingertips, staining the carpet that he touched and spreading like ink. Behind him Risa gasped.

Burrowing deep into his memory, Satoshi closed his eyes and tried to recall the diagram he was meant to create. It was one that was different from the others; one made especially for the Mystic's magic alone. But he had never been given a chance to use it, so he had filed it at the back of his mind, hoping for years that he'd never have to call it forth again.

There was supposed to be a seven point star….two suns and a moon…a chain with eight links…the Hikari family crest and the blood of the creator, shed by the hand of a Maiden…

Swiftly, and with a fluidity that of which came from his Hikari talent, Satoshi began to trace the diagram from his mind to the floor. He swept his arm left and right, twisted his wrist, connected every line and closed every seam. The star in the middle, the suns chained to the moon, the crest at the bottom and a sphere upon which the blood was to be spilt…

Quick and silent, that was his way. Envision the art to be made and then just make it. Don't think about it; don't try to recreate what it was you saw, just do it. Let the art be born, not bred. Each stroke must be different from the last. No two lines look exactly the same. On and on he went until the diagram filled almost all of Niwa's room. He came to the final point and pressed down, sealing the diagram and activating its magic. He straightened up to his feet and stepped back. The crescent moon lay at the center, with the blank, red circle waiting below it. He looked up to see Risa pressed against the wall, trying not to step on the glowing lines.

She was staring down at it all, her eyes wide and surprised, her hands clenched tightly to her chest and twisting amongst themselves.

"Hiwatari…Hiwa—how did you make…?" She was speechless.

He couldn't blame her. He, too, would be afraid of someone like him: someone muttering spells under their breath and drawing cryptic diagrams in glowing ink.

"Harada-san, please. I need you to come here."

She looked up at him, startled by his voice. "What? Why?"

Time was running out…he could hear The Mystic coming…

"Quickly, before it's too late!"

Risa jumped into motion and sidled past the drawing, making her way to Satoshi's side. "What should I do?" she asked. He looked down at her.

"Harada-san, this is a spell to seal the magic that is making the crescent piece glow. If we don't seal it now something terrible may happen." He waited for her laugh, to cry, to hit him in the shoulder and tell him he was crazy. He expected her to look at him in disgust, probably thinking he had gone mental or else was some sort of gothic, cult member, speaking of spells and magic and mysterious things.

What he didn't expect was for her to simply nod and reply, "Okay…what must I do?"

He blinked and hesitated, but just for a moment. "Come." He took her by the hands and led her into the circle, positioning her inside the blank circle with himself. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small shard of glass, the same shard he had found earlier in the day, before meeting the Harada sisters. It too glowed, although with less intensity than that of the moon. He handed it to her. "Take this and when I tell you to I need to you to cut my hand."

She had been staring at the sliver of glass in her hand before her head snapped up and she stared at him, mouth dropped open. "Cut you!" she cried. "Hiwatari, I can't do that! That's horrible!"

…_Hikari's white wings tear the world apart…_

Satoshi grabbed Risa's shoulder and bore his eyes into hers, his patience, and fear, waning thin. "Harada, listen to me. If this ceremony isn't completed within the next thirty seconds something terrible will come for us; already has come for us. I don't want you to get hurt, do you understand? When I tell you to, you must do your part. Can you do that?"

She held his gaze for a split second and then nodded. He let her go. "But why me?" she quickly asked.

"Because," Satoshi took off his glasses and tucked them into his pocket. "You are a Maiden."

-----------------------

She walked upon the wooden floor of the living room, mist pooling wherever she stepped. The room was dark and empty, save for the pale glow of light coming from the top of the stairway.

She smiled.

--------------------------

He bowed his head and began to mutter once more. They were incoherent words; words of Latin that Risa could not understand. She just waited and faced him, one hand clinging desperately to the glass shard. He stood tall with hands spread downward, his palms facing the intricate diagram around them.

Risa had never seen Satoshi draw before; had never had the chance to watch him work. But seeing him now, drawing this beautiful creation …

Hiwatari was not one to show any semblance of emotion. She had known him for so long now, had shared the same classroom for years, and yet she could not conjure up one, single moment when he seemed…human. He had always been the class genius: smart and suave, private and silent, sitting in his corner reading his book while scores of girls admired him and giggled every time he looked up.

And all the time he had never seemed real.

But now…

Art was his passion. Risa could tell that from the moment he began creating the diagram. The way his arm moved in unison with his hand and fingers; the way his eyes closed, envisioning what he needed to make and than making it; the way his movements were so confident and graceful, as if he couldn't possibly make a single mistake. He seemed a completely different person in those few moments, someone unrelated to the cool, closed Satoshi Hiwatari she had grown up with.

He had seemed vulnerable and tangible and real.

Risa stared at the blue head bowed in front of her. This entire day, with all its events and occurrences, had begun to open a new door to her curiosity where one, solitary question rang loud in true in her mind: Who was Satoshi Hiwatari?

"Harada."

She blinked and stood up straighter, snapping out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

"Now."

He held out his hand and Risa held it with her own, staring down at his fingers. Long and slender, made for artistry. She held up the glass piece and placed its tip on his palm but hesitated. She looked up at him and he returned her gaze. He nodded.

"I'm sorry." She pressed down and pulled back, dragging the jagged edge across his skin and opening a wound in his palm, garnet blood pooling instantly. He turned his hand over and let the droplets fall to the floor where they splashed down and spread, filling the circle below them with an even bolder red than the ink. Risa kept from flinching, the feel of her cutting him making her skin crawl.

"Morieris," Satoshi said. "Soul of the art, Thou must die."

--------------------------

Daisuke skidded to a stop, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. "TOWA!"

The Eternal Guide and brought them to the base of the cliff, the same cliff that carried the Harada mansion at its top. She had come to a halt right where the base began, her eyes now facing towards the ocean, her petite frame balancing on the rail that outlined the street, the only separation between the people and the crashing waves and jagged rocks below. She was leaning into the warm breeze, her arms spread out, wide and welcoming.

"Towa," Daisuke cried again. "Towa, what are you doing? You could fall!"

"What is she doing?" Riku slid to a halt beside Daisuke, her eyes staring, wide-eyed, as Towa leaned farther into the wind, her body tilted at an almost forty-five degree angle. "She's going to slip into the water! Niwa, do something!"

"No!"

Both Daisuke and Riku looked back as Kosuke came jogging up to them, sweat dotting his brow. He slowed down and stopped, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees so he could breathe. "You mustn't disturb her. She's finding something."

Riku frowned. "Finding something?"

"But finding what?" Daisuke asked. "There's nothing out there but the sea. The only place that could even hold art is the underwater temple and that was flooded in months ago."

_"It's not in the temple," _Dark said. Daisuke blinked.

"What did you say?" he asked. Riku and Kosuke looked at each other.

"We didn't say anything."

_"I can feel it, the presence of Hikari creation. It's like The Mystic's Dream…but different. Very different. Towa can feel it too, and she's reaching out for it. She's trying to find it..."_

"There's nothing here but water. Are you saying that the art is at the bottom of the ocean?"

Riku furrowed her brow. "Niwa, who are you talking to?"

_"No, Daisuke. The art is **from** the ocean. Look."_

Daisuke turned to Towa once again. She was still leaning out far over the sea, but her eyes had closed to their vision now and she was reaching for something, her arms stretched far out in front of her and her fingers grasping for something far beyond her touch. She whispered only one word, but Dai could hear it loud and clear.

"**Silence.**"

"Niwa, look!" Riku pointed past his shoulder and he whirled around to see what she was looking at. Out in the middle of sea, about thirty meters away, the moonlight had gathered to only one part of the surface of the water. Everywhere else the sea remained dark. And hovering just above the splash of moonlight was something made from silver, flashing in the light and winking to them on the shore. It was curved and small, but it just waited there, floating and turning.

"Dark," Towa whispered. "Steal it, Dark."

"What is that?" Riku asked, leaning over the rail. "How is it floating there above the water? Niwa, what's going on?"

But Daisuke wasn't listening to her. He knew what he had to do, and his face had deepened to a garnet blush. "I'm sorry, Riku-san." He reached forward and embraced her close, burying her face into his shoulder, his heart pounding and his blood rushing. She gasped, but didn't pull away.

"Niwa…!"

There was a rush of wind, Riku was thrown backward and the sky was suddenly filled with a rain of black feathers, obscuring her vision. Daisuke tried to keep from crying out, but a whimper escaped him as he transformed, his red hair darkening, his wide eyes narrowing, and his lithe frame growing taller. Riku screamed.

"Niwa!"

"Kosuke!"

"I got it, Dark." Kosuke had caught Riku before she fell on her back and pressed a hand over her eyes, shielding her vision. "I'm sorry, Harada-chan."

"Wh—what's happening…?" she cried, flailing, but Dark quickly pressed his fingers to her temples and she instantly went limp.

_"Dark, what did you do to her?"_

The Phantom Thief stepped away and allowed Kosuke to lift Riku up in his arms, her head falling backward in a deep sleep. "Don't worry, Daisuke. She'll be fine. I just put her to sleep; you wouldn't want her to see us like this, would you?"

Daisuke didn't answer.

"Dark." Dark looked up to face Kosuke. "Be careful. Whatever that…art…may be, it's twisting up Towa's powers, and it could twist yours as well. Watch yourself."

Dark smirked. "Don't worry. I always do." He leapt and landed on the rail, staring out at the sea and his target, bathed in light. "Wiz! To me!" He pushed off the rail and sailed through the air, his agile framed cutting through the summer breeze. In a flash of darkness black wings appeared on his back and he was lifted into flight, his chest barely grazing over the water's surface. Behind him Towa continued to reach, her eyes still closed.

"Hear it, Dark. Listen. Listen to the sound of **Silence**."

------------------------------

The crescent moon blazed with light, illuminating the entire room. Risa grabbed onto Satoshi and held on as a gust of wind emitted from the glass and sent her hair flying about her face, tearing away the scream from her lips. But it lasted only a split second before all light and wind was sucked back into the glass moon and everything around them was silent and dark once more.

Satoshi readjusted his glasses and push the hair out of his face. Risa opened her eyes, her hands clinging to his shirt and her face buried into his chest. "Was it supposed to do that?" she asked. Satoshi nodded.

"Yes. The magic is sealed." Risa stepped away from him and he walked over to the dormant piece, picking it up from the floor. The intricate diagram he had drawn had disappeared, having been pulled into the glass itself to lock away the Mystic's magic. "We should be safe, now." He pocketed the piece and turned back to Risa. She was messing with her hair, the band snapping free in the wind and letting her long tresses twist about her face. She was smoothing it down, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You know, Hiwatari," she began, speaking evenly and with as little humor as she could muster, "most boys in our class don't mutter spells and seal magic as a hobby."

Satoshi stared at her and nodded. He knew that this would come next, the questions. She had taken his mysterious tendencies well thus far, but sooner or later the strangeness of who he was would surface and her patience would wane thin.

"Harada-san, I'm--," He stopped, his eyes widening as he stared out the door towards the stairs. Risa frowned.

"What's wrong now?"

He shook his head, pulling out the glass moon and glaring at it in disbelief. "No, it should be over now. The ceremony worked; the magic is sealed."

In front of him Risa had caught sight of something on Daisuke's desk and she walked over to it, tilting her head. "Hiwatari, what is that?" she asked. Satoshi turned around and hurried over to her, peering over her shoulder at whatever it was that had caught her attention.

The blood in his veins froze.

From the top drawer of the desk, Satoshi could see the bright, blue glow of light breaking through the seams.

-----------------------------

One stair, two stairs, three stairs. She took step after measured step, rising slowly as she followed the pull of her light. On the fourth step there was a waver in the pull and she hesitated.

Her magic. It was gone. It had flickered out like a flame in the wind. Nothing was left of it.

But the other two still pulsed strong and true, calling her to them.

She parted her lips.

_"I seek the spirit, the soul and the heart,_

_Love of my life, I'll tear your dreams apart…"_

---------------------------

Dark flew forward, his eyes fixed directly onto his target. Far behind him he could still hear the faint whisper of Towa; the sound of her still searching.

"Don't worry, Guide. I got it." Dark flapped his wings and gave himself a burst of speed. The glinting object was coming closer, its shine almost blinding him as it slowly rotated. Dark stretched out his arm as he came closer, the shine was in front of his eyes now, his fingers were closing around it, smooth and cold…

He pulled up and away from the water, rising high above his own distorted reflection. "Hey, Daisuke," he said, grinning. "I got it."

"What is it?" he asked. Dark looked down at his prize and turned it over, the smile dropping from his face. "Dark?"

"Daisuke. It's a horn."

---------------------------

Satoshi didn't wait to explain. He grabbed Risa's arm and dragged her to the window leading out to Daisuke's small balcony.

"Hiwatari!"

He covered her mouth with his hand. "Don't talk." She watched, quietly, as he kicked the window open and ushered her onto the terrace, reaching up and quickly lowering the window back into place. He pressed his back against the wall and pushed Risa back as well, his face titled towards the closed window, his chest heaving.

"Hiwatari--,"

He spun around in an instant and pulled her close, his face near her own and his breath in her ear. "Harada, I will say this once more. I need you to be very, very quiet. Can you do that?" His voice was low and commanding; scary even. Risa could only purse her lips and nod. He pulled away and bowed his head to her, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. She was staring at their feet, where a heavy mist was seeping onto the balcony from inside the room.

---------------------------------

The Mystic's Dream stood, tall and beautiful, at the center of Daisuke's room, a fine mist spilling from her swirling gown. She looked around, warping eyes scanning the space before her. No one was to be seen.

But she had felt it, felt him. She had felt the presence of the Hikari blood, knew that he was near. That was the only reason her glass pieces were glowing. His singular presence was the trigger; he alone brought out the magic within her.

She lowered herself to the floor, her hands caressing the smooth carpet. She spread her fingers wide, feeling the remnants of the Lunar Crest, the magic spell made to seal her and her magic. He had been here. No one else could use the Lunar Crest save for him.

"My precious one," she whispered, laying her cheek against the soft floor. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

She looked up. Through the window and standing on its throne in the heavens, the moon shone, full and true. She closed her eyes, soaking in its beams, feeding up its ghostly enchantment. She drew her life force from the moon, and she used its light to send her song upward.

_"Dreams of the wistful, lone young eyes,_

_Hangs upon your treacherous lies,_

_Come from the darkness, angel of light_

_Rescue me from the shadows of this night._

_Blood of Hikari calls to me_

_Rise upon the rolling sea_

_I seek this spirit, this soul and this heart_

_Not Time nor Death can tear my love apart…"_

---------------------------------

Risa closed her eyes, her body suddenly feeling very weak. The music…it was soothing and calming, entering inside of her and making her feel so real and alive. The music was in her ears and the mist was crawling along her skin, cooling her. The smell of freshly fallen rain filled the air and the moon suddenly shone brighter.

Satoshi glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch Risa as she went limp and nearly fell to the floor. He caught her around the waist, his other hand supporting her head. "Harada," he whispered, his voice barely audible. She didn't answer, but her eyes were wide and staring up at the heavens. "Harada, snap out of it."

"The…song…" She reached up past his face, grabbing at something that wasn't there. "It's…so…beautiful…"

Satoshi knelt on the ground and tried to cover her ears and stifle her voice. The Mystic's plan was to use her song to lure them out, and he could not have her plan succeed. Until he knew exactly what the creature wanted he could not risk being seen by her. She would know his face and know everything about him and then, after that, she would no longer need a piece of glass to find him. She would be able to pick him out easily amid an entire town of people.

Risa suddenly shifted her gaze and bore his eyes into him. He pulled away a little, startled. But her deep, brown eyes glinted momentarily with a shade of blue, and he knew that The Mystic's magic had already begun its work on her.

"Damnit." He lifted Risa up and set her gently on the floor, her back supported by the balcony wall. Her bent down and lifted her face to look at his. When he spoke he did so with urgency, trying his hardest to keep his voice down. "Don't listen to her, Harada. Block her out. The music you hear isn't real; it's just your imagination. Think of something else, something that can take your mind off of her music--," He hesitated a moment before he spoke next. "Think of Dark."

Risa blinked but continued to stare at him with shifting blue eyes. She inhaled deeply and, by the look on her face, the sweet fragrance of the mist was seeping into her mind. "Dark…" she muttered, but even though she said his name her mind was far from him. From within the Mystic continued to sing and Risa was surrendering completely to her song.

Satoshi could hear it too, could feel it calling to--…

But he ignored it. He had been trained to ignore any of his family's artistic lures. Where people had been manipulated by The Second Hand of Time and the World of the Mirrors, Satoshi had remained immune to them. After all, his was the blood that had fueled the hands that made those works of art. Their wonders were nothing to new to him and the many stories, legends and myths he had found through his years of research.

But, apart from all that, one lone fact stood strong in his will that had helped him defeat their temptations time after time: everything that the artworks stood for, everything they promised and everything they appeared to be, would always be nothing but a lie. Art had evolved from an expression of the human soul to mere duplicates and replicas of fantasy and dreams. Empty shells with empty hearts.

None of them were real.

And so, too, was the song of the Mystic. Its melodious words and entrancing lyrics were nothing but blinks and breaths wound taut over the sound of air; unsubstantial. Untrue. Unreal. But only he knew this truth and, if he didn't snap her out of it soon, Risa would be susceptible to the hypnotizing magic of The Mystic and her sinister desires.

"Harada." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her straight so that she was giving him her utmost attention. "The song is not real. Dark…Dark is real. Think of him and all of the wonderful things he's stolen." Satoshi turned around and checked on the window, grimacing. He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice. He just couldn't believe there would be a day when he would be singing Dark's praises. The Phantom Thief would have found this moment supremely amusing. "Think of him running amid all those police officers, slipping past them, flying away on his black wings."

"White wings."

"Yes, his--," He stopped and turned around to stare at her, confusion replacing his disgust. "What did you say?"

She lifted her eyes to look at him. "I…remember…white wings…" And she lifted a hand towards him, her fingers brushing across his face as she caressed his cheek. Satoshi, eyes wide and surprised, grabbed her wrist to stop her, his heart pounding.

"Risa, stop…!"

_"Well, well, well, tamer. You've called on me at last. Now it's my turn to come out and play."_

Satoshi fell backward and clutched his chest, trying to calm his pounding heart and rushing blood. "K-Krad…no…!" But it was too late. The fire within him ignited and a familiar, tearing pain had begun its agonizing course.

---------------------

The Mystic suddenly stopped singing, catching herself in the middle of her song and staring out the window. She sat up, floated back to her feet and stepped forward, her eyes opening in happy surprise and a smile crossing her beautiful face.

She laughed, sweet and hollow, and ran a hand over her eyes, joy spreading entirely through her.

She had felt it…the wings and the wind. The pain and the power.

Both of white and of black.

-----------------------

White wings expanded up towards the sky and Krad stood, tall and imposing, donning the green shirt and black trouser that had, moments before, clothed Satoshi Hiwatari. His long, blonde hair curled about his shoulder, the cross that was forever his greatest façade lying on the floor next to Risa's feet. He stretched his wings and turned his head, remembering what it felt like to be free once again. It had been such a long time since he'd been out.

Satoshi's control had become stronger in suppressing him. He smiled and looked down at the dazed Risa Harada, her state somewhere in between being awake and asleep.

Stronger, perhaps, but not strong enough to resist against a pretty girl's touch.

"So, tamer," Krad said. "You've finally called upon me the proper way." He knelt down next to Risa and inspected her, head titled to one side and his eyes scrutinizing. "But such a plain girl. Why, I wonder, have you chosen her?"

_"My Hikari. You came."_

Krad whipped around and stood up, his eyes glaring towards the window. The mist seeping from it thickening. "You," he said, stepping back. "Who let you out of your cage?"

_"I have come. I have sung my song for you."_ The window began to rise, slowly, opening a doorway for the Mystic. Krad lifted his chin, his wings already spreading and preparing for flight. He glanced down momentarily at Risa, thought about it a moment, and then bent down to lift her in his arms, her tiny frame hardly a change in his stance. She was so light.

"Thanks," he said, "but I do not care so much for music." His great wings beat against the night air and he was lifted a foot from the ground, the displaced air sending the Mystic's mist careening upward. The window continued to rise.

_"No,_" she suddenly said, her sweetness dropping away. A hand reached out from the room, grasping onto the window frame. _"No. Do not take my Hikari away!"_

"Goodbye. I'm sure we'll meet again. I don't doubt you'll find him once more." Krad turned in the air and rose higher and higher, aiming straight for the moon.

Behind him the Mystic stepped out onto the balcony, her eyes locking onto the retreating, white figure of the sinister angel. Her smile had fallen now and she stared at Krad, eyes brimming with silver tears. Her elegant hands curled themselves into fists and she frowned, eyes narrowing.

She lifted her fist to her face and blew, opening her fingers and sending a rain of glittering glass up from her palm after Krad. She let them ride the air before setting free a single, piercing note from her lips, her hair snapping about as if in a strong wind.

_"Hikari. You will not escape me next time."_

Krad glanced backward in time to see the shards of glass melt away into a trail of silver fire, climbing up after him and slicing through the air, dancing through it, spiraling through it. Krad twisted around in the air and shifted Risa to one side, extending his hand out towards the fire, palm exposed. With a smile he sent a gold flash of light careening from his hand, blasting the wavering flames right out of the air. The task took little effort, but inside of him Satoshi cried out all the same. Krad ignored him and turned towards the moon once again, beating his wings and launching through the air.

Below the Mystic watched her fire dissipate and cocked her head to the side, curiosity on her face, as she backed away from the balcony wall and stepped up onto the air and after Krad.

-------------------------

Dark lowered himself back onto the sidewalk where Kosuke had laid Riku carefully under a tree and was now trying to comfort a breathless Towa. She was bent over on her hands and knees, breathing heavily. When Dark touched ground next to them they looked up. Towa screamed in surprise.

"Dark!" There was a pop and where Towa had once been there was now a frantically, flapping little bird, struggling madly to remain airborne. Dark couldn't help but laugh as Kosuke held out his hands to catch her.

"You're drained, Towa. You shouldn't over do it," he said, carefully setting her on his shoulder. He looked up at the Phantom Thief. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah." He pulled the object from his belt and held it up. "But I have to admit, it's a large disappointment for such a big fuss." He tossed Kosuke the artwork. He caught it and stood up, inspecting it.

"It's just a--,"

"Yeah. A horn; a trumpet; a plain, silver instrument that is unremarkable in every, single way."

He was right. Kosuke now held a plain, curved horn, much like that resembling the Horn of Plenty. It was made of smooth silver and, apart from that, was very much as unremarkable as Dark said it was. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it inside and out. But whichever way he looked at it, it revealed nothing to indicate that it was art at all.

"Strange." Kosuke muttered. Dark, however, was much more disappointed.

"Not strange, pointless! I wasted my thieving skills on a piece of scrap metal!" He leaned heavily against the rail and crossed his arms, scowling. "That was a big waste of a chase." Kosuke stood up and shrugged, trying to grin good-naturedly.

"Well, as long as it's Hikari made, Emiko should be happy to add it to her collection, despite its plainness." He looked up at Dark. "Don't be so haughty."

"I am not! I just don't like to waste my time, that's all. I didn't get the name Phantom Thief by stealing trinkets from a school band room."

Kosuke just smiled easily at him, but at his shoulder Towa was jumping up and down madly.

"Wait, Dark! This isn't over! You must blow the horn, now!"

Dark stared at her. "Why?" he asked, monotonously. Towa flapped her wings.

"Quickly, Dark! I promise you, the artwork of this trumpet will be revealed once you blow on it!"

Normally Dark wouldn't have given in to such a juvenile request, but the hysterical manner of which Towa was displaying made him feel guilty were he to ignore her.

"Fine," he grumbled, holding out his hand. "Give it here." Kosuke tossed him the horn and Dark caught it easily. "Do you want me to play you a song on this thing?" he mocked, but Towa was not in the mood.

"Just play it, Dark!"

"All right!" He held up the horn to his lips and frowned at it. "Here goes nothing." He pulled in a deep breath and blew.

The deep, bellowing sound of thousands of horns filled the air. From the sea waves began to rise, slowly, and the stars twinkled brightly up above. And the moon…. The moonbeams that had gathered together now blew apart, rushing over the surface of the water and gathered around at Dark's feet. They spiraled up his legs, his body, his arms, centering themselves around the horn. They spread from his lips to the rest of the smooth silver, and as they did they carved into it the most intricate designs. Each moonbeam burned its way this way and that, swirling about, curving around, creating a beautiful mosaic onto what had once been a plain trumpet. Two suns and a moon…a chain with eight links…a seven point star. When they had finished they set the trumpet ablaze with a white glow, blinding Dark, Kosuke and Towa alike.

"Towa! What the hell is happening!" Dark cried out, holding the trumpet away at arm's length and trying to shield his eyes at the same time.

Towa squeaked, burying her own face into Kosuke's hair. "Listen to it, Dark," she cried out joyfully. "It's the sound of **Silence**!"

-----------------------------

The moon flickered and then went out.

Shadowed over.

Darkness.

There was no light in the sky, save for the distant twinkles of the stars.

There was nothing.

_"NO!"_

The Mystic cried out in agony, falling from her height in the air, falling from where she had been following Krad in his escape. Falling all the way to the ground below, onto the cold grass of the Niwas' backyard.

Fell into a glittering, silver heap.

She lifted her head slowly and looked up, gasping for breath that she could not find. Above her the moon had abandoned her.

_"No,"_ she said again, struggling to sit up. _"It is not time yet! I still have time! Please, please…don't let me die…"_ She tried to rise to her feet but fell back down, her body growing weak. She was no longer graceful; no longer fluid in her movements. She was just a tired, little girl, hurt beyond physical pain and dying inside. _"Where is my moon!"_

She tried to move her feet but they would not respond. The Mystic looked down and pulled her skirt up. She whimpered. Her legs were no longer legs but glass replicas of them, frozen already in their shimmering prison. She cried out and reached a hand to touch them, but her hands, too, had hardened and gone cold.

_"No,"_ she said again, staring at her fingers. _"Not now; not again. This is…this is…"_ She tried to sing but her throat had seized up. She choked on her words, her movable arm lifting up to where the moon had last stood in the sky. _"This is…my prison…of **Silence**_…"

---------------------------

Krad lowered himself downward onto the ground, his feet touching lightly back to earth. He glanced over his shoulder suspiciously but knew that the Mystic was no where to be found. He was much too far away.

"She'll come again," he said to himself. "She won't ever stop."

He immediately pushed the Mystic's Dream from his mind and instead directed his focus to the girl in his arms. She was asleep but only barely, and her mutterings spoke of the lingering effects of the glass creature's magic. Krad grimaced and laid her down on the grass.

For some strange, obscure reason, he did so with great care and gentleness.

_"What are you doing!"_

Krad smiled and straightened up, titling his head upward. "Why, Satoshi-dono, do you sound so very concerned? Usually, this late in the game, you've barely enough strength to even stay awake." He was chuckling now, feeling Satoshi struggle inside of him.

_"I'm stronger than you think, you monster. What the hell are you doing!"_

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Krad mocked.

_"Enough games! What are you doing with Risa Harada!"_

Krad laughed, full and loud, his wings shaking with the effort. "So much concern," he exclaimed, taking a step forward. He began to circle Risa's body, his eyes glaring down at her like a hawk ready to kill its prey. "But you needn't worry, Satoshi-dono. I won't hurt this small, pathetic girl. I wouldn't dream of it. She's much too special."

Inside of him Satoshi continued to fight for control. _"What are you trying to play at? You don't care about anything unless it's of benefit to you. Why would you suddenly care about a girl you don't even know?"_

"Ah, but that's just it, tamer." He stopped pacing and knelt down next to Risa's head, his fingers grazing lightly over her hair, barely touching her. "She is of benefit to me." He laughed, deep and low, as he felt Satoshi shake with rage within him. "You see, tamer, I'm not blind. I know full well that you've grown stronger on this hold you have on me and, after your little episode in the vault, I've come to realize that you've got quite a fighting spirit. Weakening you to the brink of exhaustion won't due anymore." He stood up again, slipping his hands into his pockets. "So what do you suppose I am left with? Waiting patiently within in you and praying for a chance that you'll momentarily weaken? No; that's not my way. I don't like to wait."

Satoshi huffed. _"Krad--,"_

"Which is why this little girl is so special to me," the angel continued, ignoring Satoshi's anger. "She will be my handy savior. My own, golden key. My ticket to daily freedom."

_"What are you talking about?"_

Krad smiled, viciously and with much malice. "Come now, tamer. Don't act dim." He pulled out the crescent from his pocket and held it up to his face, titling his head to the side and pretending to inspect it. "You like her."

The silence that came in response only made him happier. He laughed, cold and cruel.

"This is wonderful, Satoshi-dono! Who would have ever thought that the isolated, friendless Hikari would ever have a crush. And on such a boring girl too." Krad tossed the glass moon up and down in his hands a few times. "On a girl who is so absolute obsessed with…Dark. It really is quite remarkable."

_"Shut up!"_

He caught the moon and held fast. "Ah…so there you are. For a moment there I was afraid that you'd left me." He pocketed the object once more. "I suppose it was only wishful thinking."

_"You're the pathetic creature. You're the one who has to rely on a girl to be free. You boast proudly, but yours is an ego fed by arrogance. You are nothing but a parasite Krad; inferior to me. Lower and mediocre. You're nothing."_

"Yes, tamer, by all means, release your anger on me! I enjoy it. But either way, it doesn't change the fact that your little crush will always help me live--,"

_"Risa Harada means nothing to me!"_

"Don't think you can lie to me, Hikari," Krad suddenly bellowed, all humor instantly gone. "I feed on your emotions; I live by them. I will always know the truth of what you feel and I will exist by it. You cannot hide who you are because I am you. And whether you deny it in voice or in action the truth will always remain." He flexed his wings and breathed deeply, his body already feeling the growing weakness in Satoshi. The boy was struggling so much and it was making Krad's hold on him difficult to maintain. "All right then, tamer. I shall prove it to you. I will give you the rest of this night, but I do so in the full knowledge that I will return very, very soon." He looked down to Risa again. "As long as she's around, I will always return."

_"Krad…!"_

The sinister angel threw his head back and laughed as the wind began to swirl, his white wings began to dissolve and blue light glowed from his very skin. With the final rings of his laughter Satoshi Hiwatari reappeared, collapsing onto all fours and gasping for breath, his shirt torn open in the back where the wings had cut through his flesh.

_"Run, run as fast as you wish…" _Krad whispered into his ear_. "I'll always catch you…I never miss…"_

Satoshi squeezed his eyes shut and shook the voice from his head. He tried to sit up properly but fell face down into the grass, the prickling blades tickling his face. He blinked several times. Damn monster; during the transformation his glasses had fallen off, again.

What a nuisance.

He coughed a few times and inwardly debated with himself about whether he really wanted to move or not. In truth he really didn't want to. He would have been perfectly content lying in a meadow in the middle of nowhere spending the night under the stars with a blanket of cool wind on his back. It wasn't as if he had to leave. No one was waiting for him to come home. No one would have been worried if he didn't return.

But there would be people waiting for Risa. She had a home to go to. She had a family who would worry. She was cared about.

He placed his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, the muscles in his arms flexing with a new soreness. He struggled to his knees and sat back on his feet, breathing in deeply. This same ordeal was becoming tedious.

There was a groan and he looked to his side. Risa still lay in the grass, her brown hair splayed about her face. She was moving, but only just. The groan made her wince in her dreams and she turned onto her side, uncomfortable. A dream…or a nightmare, most likely. Triggered from the Mystic's song.

He needed to get her home.

Satoshi crawled over to her and linked one of her arms around his neck, slipping his own beneath her slim frame and, for the second time that day, lifted her easily in his arms. He rose to his feet and swayed a little at the sudden blood rush, but he steadied himself quickly. Risa moaned again and grabbed at his shirt with her free hand. He looked down at her, solemn faced and blank mask on.

"He's wrong," he said, knowing she couldn't hear him and not really caring. "He's wrong about you and he's wrong about me."

Risa only gripped on tighter.

------------------------

Satoshi walked along the sidewalk, the street lamps lighting his way in the dark night. A cloud must have moved in front of the moon, for he could not see it in the sky and the town had become darker and colder in its absence.

They hadn't been as far out in the middle of nowhere as he thought. Krad had actually touched down in the courtyard of their school, depositing them amid the green grass of the cherry blossom orchard. Satoshi knew that there was a pay phone nearby, and he needed to call a ride right away. It was already so late.

He found the booth he was looking for and, with acute care and gentleness, shifted Risa's weight so that she was standing but all her weight was supported by Satoshi. He held on tightly to her waist and dialed in the appropriate number.

"Hello?"

"Bring the car to Azumano Middle School. You have seven minutes."

"Right away, sir."

The phone clicked and the dial tone returned. Satoshi hung up the phone and swept Risa back up in his arms. If there was one perk about being Commander of Police and the son of a millionaire, it was the immediate catering to his personal needs. He never even had to say his name anymore.

Exactly seven minutes later two headlights appeared down the street and Satoshi's signature black car rolled up next to him on the sidewalk. A gray-haired, respectable man stepped out of the driver's seat and hurried to open the door for Satoshi. If he noticed the sleeping Risa and thought it odd, he didn't say so. He knew better than to question anything involved with the Commander.

The door was opened and the young, tired boy carefully slipped Risa into the car, climbing in after her and gently resting her head against the headrest. He looked back at the driver and reached for the door handle.

"Harada Mansion. At the top of the cliff."

"Yes, sir." The man bowed and slipped back into the driver's seat. Satoshi slammed the car door closed and they were off, the mild vibration of the engine already lulling him to sleep. From the driver's seat the grey-haired man glanced at his master in the rearview mirror, noting his deep fatigue and, noticing from earlier, that his shirt was torn in the back.

"Hiwatari-dono, would you like me to inform your father when you return home? He would probably like to know that you--,"

"No." Satoshi slipped forward and kicked at the control panel above the separation window, an undignified action but he really couldn't care less. The black divider began to rise, closing off the driver from the passengers. He sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the window, the buildings and mailboxes whizzing past outside.

Like his father would ever really care. He hadn't given a thought to Satoshi's well-being since he was five years old.

Satoshi let himself be hypnotized by the passing scenery, his eyes beginning to close, giving in to the sleep that called to him. He crossed his arms and finally let his body relax, trying to forget about the Mystic and Krad and everything else that had happened that night. He'd only take a quick nap and when he awoke he'd be dropping Risa home and then rushing to remedy the mistakes of the night.

But, until then, he'd sleep, because sleep seemed so welcoming at the moment.

His blue eyes continued to stare out the window until they finally gave in and closed.

---------------------

Risa blinked, lifting her head the slightest bit. She wasn't really awake but she was aware enough to notice that she was suddenly in a car, the familiar vibration of the engine a soothing comfort to her. She had been having a nightmare of suns and moons and black and white feathers. The last thing she remembered was a quiet voice, constantly singing in her ear when she realized she shouldn't have been listening to it at all and woke up.

She looked around. This was a foreign car. She'd never been in it before. But there was Satoshi, sleeping again, his head leaning on the window. Well, she guessed, if he was here than everything couldn't be so bad.

She had found that, if she stuck close to him she was bound to stay safe. It had been proven so countless times before.

She squinted at him in the darkness. Where had his glasses gone?

Risa yawned and felt the motion of the car rocking her to sleep again. But the headrest was so hard…

She scooted over and, because she was tired, didn't really much care, and had realized her newfound philosophy of safety, laid her head on Satoshi's shoulder. His shirt was cold from the night air and she breathed in his scent, a mixture of fresh cotton and night air. A scent she found comforting. A scent she found familiar. She grabbed onto his sleeve habitually with her hand, holding on tight, and fell asleep once again, her breathing falling into synchronization with his own.


	11. Two Troubled Souls

Chapter Eleven--Two Troubled Souls

Emiko pulled her hood off, lowering the staff she was holding. Across the fire Daiki stopped chanting and did the same, frowning.

"What's wrong?" he asked his daughter. The look on her face was a familiar one; one he had seen many times when Emiko got wind of something that wasn't quite right.

"Did you feel it, Dad?" she asked. She looked around, as if the answer to her curiosity lay right in the same room. "Didn't you notice?"

"Notice what?"

She looked up, past the winding staircase to where the door to the living room remained closed. "There was a ripple in the signal. The soul of the art disappeared for a moment. It was so prominent." She looked back at her father. "Didn't you feel it?"

Daiki crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Yes, I think I did feel a slight disturbance in the signal, but it's still there, strong as before. Just look at the fire." It was true. The flames dancing before them shone an absolute blue, flickering with light but no heat, just as they had been doing for a while now. They were dancing with the spirit of the artwork, symbolizing its living powers. "If the artwork had truly disappeared then this fire would be gone and we'd have no hope of tracking the thing down."

Emiko nodded at his logic but she remained suspicious, still staring upward at the doorway at the top of the winding staircase. "You're right, Dad. You're absolutely right." She dropped her staff onto the ground and gathered her robe in her hands, running for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time.

"Emiko? Emiko, where are you going?" her father called after her. But she wasn't listening. Something had definitely gone wrong with the artwork, and she had a feeling that the problem was much closer to home  
than she realized.

-----------------------

The blaze of light dissipated. The night had darkened once again. The horns faded into the the subtle sounds of evening.

All was back to the way it should have been.

Dark slowly lowered his hand from his eyes, staring tentatively at the horn he still held. The blinding glow had dimmed, but the trumpet was still alive with its blue-white light; the engravings still pulsating  
with the ambient glow.

It looked beautiful now.

Like art.

On the ground in front of him Kosuke lowered his own arms and Towa peeked her head out from behind his hair. They looked up at Dark, both staring avidly at the object clutched in his hand. Dark stared at it a moment longer before glancing over in Towa's direction. He was frowning.

"Thank you," he muttered to her, his voice deadpan and extremely irritated. "Thank you so very much for warning me. I suppose I'm sufficiently blind now; just what I've always wanted." He grimaced, eyes narrowing as he stared at her. Towa only rolled her eyes at him.

"You're completely fine. Stop whining."

"I'm not whining. People just like to be warned before something like that happens," he snapped. Dark lifted the horn to his face so he could inspect it carefully. "What did happen, anyway? What was that?" He looked up from the artwork and focused on Towa. Kosuke was waiting as well. The tiny bird sighed and flew upward, perching on Kosuke's head.

"What you're holding right now, Dark, is a very powerful piece of artwork created by the Hikaris. It's name is **Silence**." Dark glanced down at the trumpet again and snorted through his noise.

"Funny. It's not very silent, is it?"

"Dark."

The Phantom Thief looked up to come face to face with Towa; a human Towa who was staring up at him with solemn green eyes, her mouth set into a thin line of disapproval. He stepped back a little, surprised. He didn't even notice her transform; it had happened so fast. "You shouldn't mock the art, Phantom Thief. It's powers are far beyond anything you've ever seen. You should show a little more respect," she said. She held his gaze for a long time, her stare boring into his eyes. There was never a time before when Towa had stood up to him, speaking to him as if he were inferior to her. She treated him with respect all the time, just as any knowledgeable artwork would treat the infamous Phantom Thief of legend and myth. But now, the way she was treating him, wasn't like Towa at all.

Dark leaned away from her, unused to the tone in her voice. "That's a lot of praise for a piece of metal," he muttered.

As she continued to stare up at him Towa's eyes glazed over, her pupils disappearing as she stared at him. It was startling, the green in her eyes. "You mustn't speak lowly of **Silence**. In a world without **Silence** there is only her song, long and haunting. Nothing to suppress her desires. Nothing to stifle her needs." Towa reached out a hand and touched the horn. "Nothing...nothing...to keep her from...her...Hikari..." Her eyes grew wide, she let out a high gasping sound, and then Towa's legs buckled from under her and she fell back.

Dark's arm automatically shot out and her caught her around the waist. She weighed almost nothing.

"Silly Guide," he muttered under his breath, although there was no sign of the usual humor in his voice. He stared down at Towa with a look of almost complete contempt. Kosuke stood up, staring down at the little  
maid who lived in his house.

"Poor thing," he said kindly, reaching out his hands to relieve Dark of his duty. The thief did so with no complaint, surrendering the unconcious girl over to the man. "That artwork must be extremely powerful to do something like this to her. Such odd behavior."

"It's not just the artwork."

Daisuke's father lifted his gaze to Dark, curiosity mixed with hidden knowledge etched onto his features. "Really? Why would you say that?"

Dark huffed. "The Towa No Shirube can find anything because she can sense anything and everything. And in order to sense things she must know those things. Finding artwork is easy for her because she just seeks out their energy or spirit and then tracks them down using her powers. Nothing complicated other than closing her eyes and pinpointing where the specific energy is coming from. But with this thing..." He held up the trumpet. "Not only did she have a hard time latching onto its power, she actually left and went to get the thing herself. Now, why would she do that, I wonder? She knows how the game is played: she finds the art and I steal the art. Why go after the thing herself? Especially when the object was such a burden on her form?" Dark shook his head, the solemnity in his voice reflected dangerously in his eyes. "I don't like this one bit," he told Kosuke. "Something else is terribly wrong."

Kosuke looked down at Towa for a moment and nodded, understanding Dark's logic. He hoisted the tiny girl into his arms and glanced over his shoulder, out towards the ocean where the horn had first been spotted. There was nothing but darkness out there now.

"I'm curious, though," he said. He turned back to the Phantom Thief.

"Back home, when Towa first started screaming and speaking, she mentioned a girl and yet here we have ourselves a horn." He frowned. "Doesn't it seem as if we're missing something?"

--------------------------

Emiko opened the glass door leading to the backyard and stepped out into the night. Save for the single porch light everything outside was dark. The stars suddenly filled the sky but their shining twinkles only helped to emphasize the fact that there was definitely something missing from the sky.

She looked up, her hands clasped in front of her nervously.

Above there was no moon.

"Emiko?"

Emiko turned around and saw her father standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame and staring into the backyard. She pointed upward.

"Dad," she said, her voice small and curious. "There's no moon."

"Emiko," Daiki said, almost ignoring her words. He pointed past her, to something lying in the grass. "Emiko, dear, what is that?"

--------------------------------

_Risa could feel herself floating, her mind being rocked to sleep by the most beautiful song in the world. Who was it that could sing so wonderfully? Yes, it was a sad song, but it was soothing and clear, resonating inside her chest, inside her heart. It made her think of tears and moonlight and the feel of cold water on a hot day and the magnificent fragrance of night air and fresh cotton.  
_

_In her dream she could see Dark just as the first time she saw him. Flying and mysterious; handsome and feline; so breathtaking and beautiful. She remembered how she fell in love with him because of his daring and dashing charm. She had always admired his talent for thievery and wondered how someone could be so wonderfully good at it.  
_

_She dreamt of Dark carrying her in his arms, flying her across the sky. Like a night in shining armor, whisking the princess away to happily ever after. That was her Dark. That was her Phantom Thief  
Dark.  
_

_That was why she loved him so dearly.  
_

_All the while the song continued to play in her head._

----------------------------------

Risa breathed in deeply, her face burying deep into soft cotton and the lingering smell of sea salt. She felt her head spinning and the soothing vibration of a car engine encasing her. Risa could still hear  
the song, but it was fading now, melting into a background of automobiles and breathing.

She opened her eyes.

Everything was dark and calm save the occasional flash of deep, yellow light. Risa let her eyes adjust to the night and, soon, she could make out the leather interior, black masked, closed encasement of a car's  
back seat, with the passing street lights flashing in through the windows. She lifted her head the slightest bit and looked around. The car was an unfamiliar surprise.

Am I still dreaming? she asked herself. She pushed her hair away from her face, the soft, curling strands brushing against her skin and tickling her nose. Maybe not, she guessed. She breathed in deeply and  
looked around.

There was a sound from beside her. A long, sleepy inhale. A long, sleepy exhale. She turned her head, her eyelids drooping.

It was Satoshi Hiwatari. Sitting in the seat beside her. Sleeping with his arms crossed and his head leaning against the window.

Risa frowned.

What in the world was she doing riding in a car with Satoshi Hiwatari?

_Maybe I am still dreaming.  
_

She sat up, albeit lazily, and stared at him. He looked even more tired than she ever remembered seeing him and his glasses were gone. His shirt hung onto him in a strange fashion; as if it had been  
stretched and distorted. It folded several times over his lean frame.

Risa cocked her head to one side, thinking. What was Satoshi Hiwatari doing in her dream? Why were they riding in a car together? Why did this dream seem to be much more realistic than her other dreams?

She was such a superstitious girl and very much into Tarot and dream interpretation, but this particular mental conjuring alluded her in significance. She'd never had a dream about Satoshi before.

Risa leaned forward a little bit. It was odd, having this boy here, but since he was she couldn't help the curiosity beginning to build inside of her.

Satoshi Hiwatari was admired by girls and boys alike. The girls were in love with him; in love with his good looks, in love with his intelligence, in love with his mystery and in love with his perfection. The boys envied him; envied him for his power, envied him for his influence, envied him for his talents and envied him for his perfection. Everyone was in awe of him. Everyone was entranced by him.

But why?

Why Satoshi so much more than others?

Was it really his looks? Risa, gazing at him with soft eyes, reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. She had always wondered if it was as soft as it looked. To her surprise, it was. It was such an odd  
shade of blue, but it suited him. It fit his personality.

She had to admit, since it was only a dream, that Satoshi was breathtakingly beautiful. His face was still young and very attractive, but it seemed different from the other boys: older, matured. Adult. Not cute. Handsome. Very, very handsome. She leaned closer to him and brushed the hair from his eyes. Eyes that  
were closed, yes, but she knew that when they were opened they revealed a gaze of darkest sapphire. Eyes that could penetrate. Eyes that could see what others could barely hope to glance. Eyes…different from Dark.

Was it his personality? He seemed so cold all this time that she'd known him. Well, that was until she found out the truth of his private lifestyle. Maybe Satoshi was so isolated because the majority of his  
life consisted of lonely independence. Maybe he was cold because Satoshi didn't know how to be warm. Risa took a delicate hold onto his arms and separated them, laying her head against his chest. She could  
hear his heartbeat.

No, he wasn't cold. Satoshi was very, very warm. Maybe he didn't know it? Or could it have been his unavailability? His mystery?

But not like Dark's mystery…

How many girls had confessed their love for him and yet he had shone not even the slightest interest in them? So many love letters, so many secret admirers, and he'd barely give them the time of day. He would just sit at the back of the classroom, reading his books the entire lesson and then getting everything flawlessly right during the tests. He'd sit alone on the school rooftop, eating his lunch, or else he'd be disappearing the moment the last bell rang, his cellphone already to his ear.

Everyone saw Satoshi, yet no one knew him.

Risa looked up at him. What was it like, she wondered, to know the real Satoshi? What was he like? What did it feel like?

She wondered what it would be like in reality, but she supposed it couldn't hurt to find out what it was like in dreamland. Risa sat up and leaned over him, her lips unintentionally smiling. Usually she and  
Riku shared their dreams with one another, but Risa vowed never to let this dream slip into her words. She'd be horrified if anyone ever found out that Risa was actually interested in the cool, quiet Satoshi Hiwatari.

She tilted his head towards her only the slightest bit. She didn't want him to wake up. Risa took her time to thoroughly appreciate the rarity, and ridiculousness, of the situation. _Look, all of you fan club girls...I get to do what every last one of you dreams of..._

Risa leaned in close, took a second to actually enjoy the closeness of their faces, and then closed her eyes and touched her lips to his.

The softest, sweetest kiss.

Night wind and cotton. The freshness of the ocean breeze and the warmth of skin against skin. Sweet and sensational. Sleepy and quiet. Unexpected, unbelievable, very, very familiar...and yet...

...very...very...real...

Risa's eyes snapped open and she pulled away, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She scrambled backward on the seat, putting as much distance between her and the still sleeping Satoshi.

The still sleeping, oblivious, incredibly and utterly real Satoshi.

"I-it...wasn't a dream..."

The car suddenly began to slow down and there was the tiniest jolt as it slid to a halt. Risa barely even noticed for her eyes were still glued onto the boy next to her, horror filling her face and her heart  
pounding painfully in her chest.

She had just kissed Satoshi Hiwatari.

She had just kissed Satoshi Hiwatari.

There was a knock on the black divider between the back seat and the front seat. Risa jumped involuntarily and squeaked. She clutched her chest, breathing deeply. Anymore surprises and she wouldn't be  
certain if her poor heart could take it.

"Sir? Hiwatari-dono, we're here. Harada mansion."

Risa frowned. Harada mansion? She turned to look out her window and, sure enough, her home stood waiting outside. The white columns guarding the door and the bright porch light never looked so welcoming to her as they did in that very moment.

"Sir?" There was a sliding sound and the black divider lowered itself, sinking into the car itself and revealing an old man's face looking around from the front seat. "Satoshi-dono...oh. Miss, you're  
awake." He smiled. Risa just stared. "I'm guessing that this estate belongs to you and the Commander here was trying to bring you home."

Risa had started to nod but then stopped herself midway. Her brow furrowed as she questioned the man with her eyes. "Commander?" she asked. The man only smiled kindly and nodded.

"Well, for a Commander I have to say he's not being very professional right now. I honestly feel sympathy for this boy; he works extremely hard. I could wake him and he could properly walk you to your door--,"

"No! No," Risa interrupted, throwing out her hand to stop him.

"Really, there's no need. I can get in by myself, thank you."

"Are you sure? He'll be awful disappointed when he finds out I let him sleep through this."

Risa felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She tried to steal a glance at Hiwatari but found that the minute her eyes began to travel that way her heart would speed up in reaction and soon her breathing would go out on her. She aborted the mission.

"No, really. I'm fine. I'm fine. I can make it on my own."

The man thought for a moment, probably debating whether or not he should still wake his master, but then he gratefully conceded to Risa and opened his door to walk around the car and open her own.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at him and slipping out. He bowed to her, smiling.

"I wish you well."

"Um..." Risa glanced back towards the darkened interior of the car and then back at the chauffeur.

"Could you--could you just tell him 'thank you' from me?"

Goodness, she was pathetic. She hadn't even mentioned his name and she was getting butterfly's in her stomach just by referring to him.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

"I promise, miss." He bowed to her once again, closed the door, and rounded about the car once more and slipped in. Risa quickly hurried to the dial pad beside the iron gate and punched in the security  
number, the back of her neck tingling the entire time. Not that he was watching her, or anything...I mean, he was asleep...right?

She pushed 'enter' and the iron gates fell into motion, slowly creaking open.

-----------------------------

Dark touched down onto cement, his wings flapping once to settle his nimble frame down slowly. In his arms he carefully cradled the unconscious Riku, her head lolling over his arm. He took a rare moment  
to look at her, really look at her, and he found that she really was beautiful.

She wasn't just pretty. She wasn't just cute. She was a beautiful girl. Strong in her opinions. Understanding of Daisuke's shyness. Powerful in her will. Independent. Radiant. She understood things  
that most girls her age couldn't; and she was very faithful to Daisuke, sticking to his side even if she didn't know the truth of everything. She was a beautiful girl.

"You picked a winner here, Daisuke," Dark muttered, actually grinning.

Inside of him the tired, little boy tried to ask Dark what he was talking about, but the Phantom Thief refused to repeat his words. "It actually could have been mistaken to be a compliment in favor to your judgement, and we don't want you to get a big head now do we?"

"Talking to Daisuke again, are we?" Kosuke trotted up to the thief, cradling a bundle all his own. Towa, back in her bird form, was carried delicately in Kosuke's hands, her head tucked comfortably under  
her wings. "Are you two fighting again?"

"Yes."

Kosuke smiled. "Good to know you're both doing well." He brushed past the thief and reached for the front door.

"What do you mean by that?" Dark asked skeptically, but Kosuke just shrugged.

"Nothing really. I was just a little worried. After what happened to Towa being around the horn, I was starting to worry that maybe it would affect you in a similar way."

Dark scoffed. "Why would it? She's obviously seen it before and most likely had issues with it. I would too if every time you blew the damn thing it made such a dramatic event."

"True, but there are still many mysteries surrounding that piece of art. I would stay very careful around that horn." He pushed open the door and entered the house, leaving Dark outside to hold Riku. The  
Phantom Thief glanced down at his side where Silence hung loosely from his belt. It was still faintly glowing; the silver and blue engravings shimmering in the darkness.

Dark looked up.

Still no moon.

"You probably had something to do with that," he muttered to the horn, bitterness in his tone. He adjusted Riku in his arms and strode forward, slipping into the house and kicking the door closed behind  
him. For some strange, unknown reason, the horn called Silence irked the hell out of him.

-----------------------------

Satoshi opened his eyes, sat up. The darkness of the night still played with his vision but it didn't hide the fact that there was definitely a lesser atmosphere in the back seat of his car.

He reached up and pressed the button above his head, the black divider lowering to reveal the front seat and the silent driver as he cruised the vehicle along the lamp lit streets.

"Where's Harada-san?" he asked immediately. The driver jumped in surprise, glancing in the rearview mirror and the slightly frazzled yet still extremely composed Commander Chief of Police.

"Sorry I didn't wake you sir, but we dropped the young lady at her house about ten minutes ago. She insisted that I not disturb you." He started to frown. "Was I...did I act wrongly?" he asked.

Satoshi took a moment to comprehend what the man was saying before he could answer him. He shook his head, trying to relay his response into words. "Uh...yes. No. No; if that's what she wanted then...that's perfectly fine." He sat back rubbing his stiff neck. "Did she make it inside all right?"

The driver nodded. "Safe and sound."

"Good." Satoshi leaned his head back and thought for a moment. "Head for Daisuke Niwa's house. Immediately."

"But sir...it's already so late and I think you need rest--,"

"Just do it." And Satoshi kicked out with his long leg and hit the button once more, replacing the divider between driver and passenger. He sighed heavily in his new isolation, running a hand through his  
head. He was very much relieved that Risa was gone and now safe inside her own house; she would have been a burden to deal with when she woke up.

He'd have to end up explaining quite a lot of things.

But, for some reason, he couldn't help but feel just a little awkward about it all. Maybe he should have been more of a gentleman and stayed awake until he brought her home? But he could barely keep his eyes  
open...and Krad was giving him hell with the aches and pains.

Satoshi pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his face.

Why was he so hot? Why was the blood rushing to his face?

He ran a self-conscious hand across his brow and replaced his glasses.

And why was there the lingering tingle of a kiss on his lips?

--------------------------------------------

_**Silence** was created by the Hikaris in their desperate attempt to stifle the beauty and horror which they created. It was a means of escape. A cover up for the mistake they had unleashed.  
_

_The only way to quay the suffocating grasp of The Mystic's Dream.  
_

_Made in a ceremony involving the Lunar Crest...shaped in moonlight...played during the full moon...embedded with sinister powers that of which only the Hikaris would dare attempt...  
_

_The horn of **Silence** was meant to steal the moonlight.  
_

_Steal the moonlight and strap its beams into its very design, encasing it there, plunging the world into darkness.  
_

_...stifle the magic of The Mystic...strip away the source from which she draws her powers...make her weak and vulnerable and lock her away into her prison long before the sun rises...  
_

_Stop her.  
_

_The only way to stop her.  
_

_The weapon against a song...  
_

_...is **Silence**...  
_  
----------------------------------------------------

_And yet, no one knew the truth, did they? No one could understand the reason behind the Mystic's desires and her violence and her tirade of magic. No one knew why she acted as she did...why her search was  
forever incomplete...why she longed for the white wings and amber eyes...  
_

_They would not take the time to try and understand the purpose to her  
trials.  
_

_Why did The Mystic sing?  
_

_Why does The Mystic dance?  
_

_Why does something as beautifully dangerous as her long for something far beyond her reach? Why does The Mystic search for the same blood that placed in her captivity in the first place?  
_

_She would wonder to herself.  
_

_She did it all for the same reason that humans place themselves into their own swirling typhoons of misery.  
_

_They did it...  
_

_She did it...  
_

_We all do it...  
_

_For love. _

----------------------------------------

"Is that--is that supposed to be The Mystic's Dream?"

Emiko continued to stare solemnly at the crystal statue, her eyes blank, but she nodded her head slightly. "Yes," she whispered, as if she were afraid it could hear her. For almost an hour since they had  
found the statue outside their house, Emiko and her father had been entranced by it...staring at it as it sat absolutely motionless on the kitchen table.

Even Kosuke, after entering the house, had gone silent once he saw it, admiring its beauty in quiet respect. Only Dark seemed untouched by the artwork.

"That's what I was supposed to steal the other night?" he asked, talking a little bit louder than he probably needed to. Then again, he was resorting to anything that could shake the Niwa family from their  
somber stillness. He did not like that they were so entranced by it. "There doesn't seem to be anything special about--,"

But then yes...yes, there was something special about it. He could feel it now, emanating from the statue in the smallest waves. It was like an icy wind creeping over his skin, chilling him like no winter  
night could chill the flesh. He shivered, staring at the artwork with a newfound look of fearful curiosity.

He could feel it in the icy wind...the words that The Mystic's Dream was dying to say.

Was dying to sing.

_My Hikari...my beautiful Hikari...my lovely...my dead...Hikari...  
_

Dark felt his mind begin to race; he felt the pang of uncertainty that he had felt the other night, the same prickling feeling of being afraid. Of being utterly and terribly afraid. He grabbed at his head,  
the fear inside of him making it pound with adrenaline. What was this thing and its hideous aura of cold and ice? Why was it doing this to him? Everything about it seemed so...wrong.

The way it looked to him. The way it felt to him. The way it seemed to thrive of a need to obtain and let perish in its frozen hands.

Dark backed up against the far wall and let his tied body slide down its solidity.

Whatever the answers to those questions were Dark knew in his heart that he truly did not want to know them.

Anything about The Mystic, he didn't want to know.

-----------------------------------------------------------

She sat in the darkness of her room, her pink bed, usually bathed in moonlight, was now doused in darkness. She was leaning against her headboard, staring down at her lap. She had a fleeting worry about her  
sister, but then she remembered that Riku was in the care of Daisuke, and Daisuke was someone who could always be trusted.

Risa tried closing her eyes to clear her mind but it only made it worse. Not only did she still see him, but now he was nothing more than a lithe shadow outside her window, now donning Dark's own  
signature wings on his back.

She wanted to laugh at such a stupid notion.

Hiwatari with Dark's wings. How absurd.

And yet...

She opened her eyes again and tried to picture Dark in front of her. His black, unruly hair, his long fingers, the curve of his smirk, the angle of his posture, the lines of his face. She tried to imagine him  
standing in her room, a newly stolen piece of artwork under his arm, his great wings barely fitting inside the room. She could do it perfectly now, conjuring the image of the Phantom Thief Dark with ease.

In her imagination he stood real as the night itself, staring at her with his twin eyes of amethyst.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

There, wasn't that it? Was that small skip of her heart the symbol that meant she was still in love with him? Wasn't she still blushing at the mere thought of him? Could she want nothing more than to see him fly through her wind only to whisk her away into a night of fantasy and magic?

Weren't these the perfect reasons? The reasons why she loved him?

The reasons that she loved him.

Her Dark. Her very own Phantom Thief. The only man she...

...could ever...

He was changing.

Black hair was lightening into blue. The face was no longer angular but simply lean. And handsome. So very handsome. The hands were becoming nimble, more accustomed to writing than to stealing. He stood straighter. The smirk more of a scowl, and yet the scowl more like a  
look of serious content. The blue, blue, eyes.

She couldn't mistake it now. Her heart was pounding, she could feel her entire face flush red, her breathing was becoming shallow, every nerve in her body was on alert and the only thing she could think of  
was kissing him.

And walking next to him.

And sitting next to him.

And talking with him.

And holding him.

And watching him.

And being with him.

And knowing that every time he was around...she always felt safe.

Safe in his scent, safe in his eyes, safe in his grasp, safe in his embrace.

Even safe in his sleeping kiss.

Risa Harada covered her face with his hands and the image of Satoshi Hiwatari dissolved from her mind, leaving her in her empty room with a stuttering heart and a trouble mind. She wanted to kick herself for  
her fickle notions of love and her insane rational ideas of what it was.

Because she had no idea what love was. She had thought she loved Dark...but now...

Risa uncovered her face and looked down at her lap once again. Spread across her legs was the same, white jacket she had kept close to her all this time, its companion white feather tucked into the pocket.

She did not know where the white feather had come from.

But now...

...after knowing his scent and becoming so familiar with it...

...Risa knew that the jacket was not one left by Dark.

Dark wasn't the one who smelled of fresh nightfall and soft linen. Dark wasn't the one who had left her in his own clothing to shield her from the night. Dark wasn't the one she now held in her hands,  
burying her face into the fabric of his presence.

It was Satoshi Hiwatari.

Satoshi Hiwatari that Risa wanted.

Satoshi Hiwatari that Risa yearned for.

And the fact that it was Satoshi Hiwatari and not Phantom Thief Dark made Risa want to cry...and cry...and cry...and cry...


	12. Of Black and White

**Chapter Twelve — Of Black and White**

Daisuke ran out of the house, slowing down when he made it to the sidewalk and throwing his head back to breathe, Wiz pouncing along behind him. Dark's transformation had been so abrupt that it had shocked Daisuke and, to be honest, it had been painful. He was breathless now, his body slightly aching all over. He rested his hands on his knees and sucked down mouthfuls of the night air, trying to still the pounding in his chest.

Why had The Mystic's Dream had made Dark so…afraid? But Dark was never afraid. He wasn't afraid of anything. Which made Daisuke only that much more curious about The Mystic. Why was the art so powerful and dreadful? Every Hikari creation that he had come up against had a strange history to it, and Dai intensely wanted to know this one.

He sighed.

But in order for this to happen, Daisuke could not let Satoshi have The Mystic's Dream.

Not yet.

Suddenly lights flooded the night and Dai had to throw his hands up to block his eyes. Headlights were shining down the street, soon accompanied by the purr of an engine. In a few moments a familiar black car came rolling to a stop in front of Daisuke, the tinted windows obscuring the passenger inside. But he already knew who was riding in the back.

"I wondered where you had gone to," Daisuke said as the door opened and Satoshi stepped out. He looked even worse than Daisuke felt and his shirt was torn in the back, just like his. A sure sign that Krad and Dark had both sailed the night. "When I came back both you and Harada-san were gone. Is she with you?"

"Not anymore," Satoshi answered, slamming the door closed and moving to stand next to him. "I brought her home."

Dai let out a long breath, relieved. "I'm glad. Now all I have to worry about is bringing Riku-san home." He looked up into Satoshi's face. "Are you okay?" He knew he didn't have to say anymore than that. Satoshi knew to what he was referring to and shrugged.

"I'm not dead." His face remained impassive. "So what happened?" He reached up a hand to habitually push his glasses up his nose, realized that he wasn't wearing any, and dropped it back down again. Dai rubbed his neck nervously.

"Towa found something, Hiwatari," he started. "We went all the way to the other side of town; to the cliff side where the Harada's live."

"What could Towa find there?"

Dai shrugged. "That's what I thought at first. I mean, there's nothing over there! But she did—she found something in the sea." He looked down. "It was a horn that appeared out of nowhere, hovering on top of the water."

He looked up in Satoshi's face and was surprised to see the same, calculating look that was apparent when he was trying to catch Dark. The wheels were turning in his head, falling back into his knowledge and far into the historical records of the Hikaris, trying to pull out information that could possibly tie to the horn. Daisuke watched all of this happen, and was fascinated.

Satoshi really was a prodigy.

"A horn?" he finally asked, his eyes staring down at the ground yet not seeing it. "Was there any markings or designs on it? Anything that could give us a time era, at least?"

"No, not at first."

Satoshi frowned. "What do you mean 'not at first'?"

"Exactly what I meant. I—er, Dark--, flew out to get it but it was just a plain, silver horn. But when we brought it back to Towa she said to blow on it, and when we did I think…I think…Hiwatari, I think it _stole the moonlight_."

Strong hands grasped Daisuke's shoulders and Satoshi was boring his icy glare into his face. "What did you say?" he breathed, leaning over him. Daisuke swallowed.

"The moonlight. When we blew it the moonlight was gone and the horn was suddenly glowing with carved on images, as if they'd been there the whole time." He gently grabbed Satoshi's wrist and loosed his grip, stepping back from him. "It was…very loud."

The taller boy stared. "That's not possible," he practically whispered. "It's not possible to steal the moonlight."

"Well, someone found a way because that's what the horn did."

Satoshi shook his head. "Impossible. That's too dangerous. Far too dangerous. It's practically reckless." Deep inside Daisuke wanted to say that the Hikari clan had a tendency to be reckless when they made anything, but he knew the situation would not appreciation the sardonic humor.

"I'm not making this up, Hiwatari. I'm just telling you what I saw, and what I saw was the moonlight disappear into a silver horn named **Silence**."

Hiwatari 's brow furrowed. "**Silence**?"

"That's what Towa said it was called."

Satoshi paused. "Let me see."

Dai cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"Let me see this horn."

Panic suddenly rose in Daisuke's throat. He couldn't possibly show Satoshi the horn, not yet. The Niwas had not had a chance to inspect it. With his grandfather and mother's skills and his father's knowledge, Daisuke was sure they would be able to uncover the mystery surrounding the horn and the Mystic's Dream; and most likely reveal a past even unknown to Hiwatari. But if he surrendered the horn to him now then he would have to surrender The Mystic and, in doing so, condemn the artworks to be destroyed instead of sealed, their seductive history destroyed with them.

Even though Daisuke wanted to help him, he could not let Satoshi know he had the Mystic.

Not yet.

It was a dangerous game, but an essential one.

"I don't have it anymore," he lied, not meeting his friend's eyes. "I…I mean Dark…dropped it back into the ocean afterward."

He could hear Dark was wailing and Daisuke mentally chastised himself. It was pathetic lie.

The disappointment and disbelief that came over Satoshi's face was so pronounced that Daisuke could not recall there ever being so much emotion expressed in those cold, blue features. The thought almost made him laugh. Keyword being 'almost'.

"He dropped it," Satoshi repeated, staring down at him. Dai nodded.

"Uh—yeah."

"Dark, the great Phantom Thief Dark, the legendary Phantom Thief Dark…dropped a precious artifact into the ocean." Satoshi gritted his teeth and exhaled through his nose. "How amazingly ironic," he whispered, shaking his head. Inside Daisuke could hear and feel Dark's nasty retort and shaking fists.

"I'm sorry, Hiwatari."

But he held up his hand. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault. Besides, it doesn't matter, I can still research on this horn later." He rubbed his eyes, a gesture that screamed fatigued and tiredness. Daisuke could relate. "We better finish this another time; it's getting late."

It was past getting late and was now getting early.

"You should go home and rest," Daisuke suggested, jumping on the opportunity to usher Satoshi away. "And I need to sleep too." He tried to bite his lip and clam his voice down but it was futile. He knew he sounded to excited but he couldn't help the anxiety. And, just to his luck, Satoshi noticed.

"Something's wrong," he answered, frowning as he stared at Daisuke. "You seemed scared."

"I'm not scared."

"Yes, you are." He tore his blue gaze away from him and glanced at the house, back at him, and then back at the house. "There's something in there that's not right, I can feel it."

Daisuke felt his neck grow hot and he held his breath. He had the sudden thought about Krad's magic in Satoshi being able to sense the artwork. After all, Dark could sense Hikari magic. He waited, watching the taller boy's face, waiting for the look of realization--…

"Daisuke, did you find a glass piece like mine earlier?"

"A-what?"

"A glass piece. Did you find a piece like mine?"

"A glass piece?" Daisuke blinked, unsure of what he had heard. He had been certain that Satoshi was going to ask about the Mystic's Dream.

"I saw it in your room. Why didn't you tell me you had found one like mine?"

"Oh…uh, er…I'm sorry. I must have forgotten about it. I was a little disoriented today and when you and Riku-san and Harada-san showed up…I guess it just slipped my mind." He shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry."

"You just have to be careful." He spoke severely and with much fatigue, which made Daisuke feel extremely guilty. "I don't think you understand the severity of this situation. Anything—_anything_—that has to do with the Mystic is extremely dangerous. She uses everything she has and owns; that is why she is so powerful." He sighed. "The reason she leaves shards of her own glass around is so she can track people. They, in themselves, are her essence of false beauty, so they adopt a façade that is appealing to humans. She can find people that way."

"But why?" Dai asked. "Who is she looking for?"

The look Satoshi gave him seemed like a guarded and unsure one, so when he shook his head it wasn't at all a surprise. Maybe he didn't know. Or maybe he knew and did not deem it right to tell Daisuke just yet. "I can't say. But I do not want to take the time to find out, which is why my offer still holds." He extended a hand out to him, his other in the pocket of his trousers. Daisuke looked down at the proffered hand and then back up at its owner. "Will you help me, Niwa? Will you help me find the Mystic's Dream?"

With little hesitation, and with a heavy feeling in his gut, Daisuke shook Satoshi's hand and attempted to grin up at him. "Yes," he replied. "I—I'll help you, Hiwatari."

The look that Satoshi gave him was oddly piercing. "Thank you." He broke their handshake and turned back to the car, nodding to the dark, tinted windows. "I better go."

"Yeah," Dai repeated absently, his mind still brooding over the pseudo-promise he had made. "Wait, before you go." He searched the concrete at his feet and found Wiz curled up under his father's hedges, waiting patiently until Daisuke went back into the house. "Could you get the book on the coffee table, Wiz?" Daisuke asked. The little creature swiftly jumped up in response, bouncing up the walkway cheerfully. The two boys waited in silence for the little rabbit to come back. It was not an awkward silence, though. In fact, it was not silence at all.

It was just quiet. A comfortable quiet between comfortable friends.

"What is that?" Satoshi asked a few moments later, his eyes looking past Daisuke. Dai turned and saw Wiz struggling to drag the book over the threshold, his tiny strength thrown into the effort.

"The book that I wanted to show you," Dai said, hurrying over and relieving Wiz of his burden. "It's the book where my mother found The Mystic's Dream." He walked over to Satoshi and held the tome out to him. "You still want to look at it, don't you?"

"Yes. I would appreciate that." He took the book from him and tucked it under his arm, one foot stepping into the car. He hesitated. "Niwa. Thank you."

Dai tried to smile but found that the action was laden with guilt and lies. Instead he consented to wave good-bye to his friend as he slid into the back seat of the car. "See you Monday," Daisuke said. Hiwatari nodded once and then the car door slammed, the engine revved to life, and Satoshi's black car pulled away from the curb and headed up the street, taking with it the yellow of its headlights.

Daisuke let out a heavy sigh and glanced heavenward. The clouds parted. Still no moon. It was still trapped within the horn. Good thing Satoshi was tired then; he did not notice.

The red-haired boy turned to face his open front door, dreading entering and yet uncomfortable to remain outside. Had he done the right thing, not telling Hiwatari about the Mystic's Dream? Was he dabbling in something far beyond his abilities and that of his family?

Had the Niwa's finally met their match?

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and striding back towards the house. He just wouldn't look at the Mystic. He'd go in there, throw a sheet over it and stow it away with the other artworks until his family had gone back to normal and they could discuss its history at a better time.

That would be best.

That would definitely be best.

-------------------------------

Risa didn't want to help with the play.

She didn't want to make copies of papers or help build the set or organize all of the costumes. She just wanted to sit at her desk with her homework assignments and finish them before the last bell rang and school was out. It had already been such a huge trial to come to school at all on Monday morning, and to find out that the regular lessons were going to be put aside for an all day play rehearsal was even more disheartening. Couldn't they just sit at their desks and listen to mind-numbing lectures so she didn't have to think about anything?

"Do you at least want to help the other girls with Hiwatari's costume?" Saehara asked her. She looked up from her desktop and glared at him, her mouth set into a thin, annoyed line.

"No," was her only reply before she turned back to her notebook. Takeshi sighed dramatically at her lack of enthusiasm before sauntering off to commence with his role as director.

Risa bit her lip and tried to keep her concentration on her schoolwork, but her mind had already begun to wander and she couldn't help but sneak a glance over her shoulder to the corner of the room...at Satoshi's desk.

Which was still empty.

When she had first walked into the room that morning, Risa had done so with bated breath, hoping that her pounding heart couldn't be heard from the rest of her classmates. But her nervousness had all been for naught, because when she stepped in a second before the first bell her eyes had already done a massive sweep of the entire room and had come up with no Satoshi Hiwatari anywhere.

He had been late.

And now, with thirty minutes into the school day, he was close to becoming absent. Risa tried not to think about it but she couldn't help the enormous amount of disappointment welling inside of her. As much as she had been dreading seeing his face again she hadn't realize how much she had wanted to. The need to see him and hear him talk again almost overwhelmed her, and she gripped her pen harder, trying to concentrate on other things.

-----------------------

He was late to school, yes.

But he had found a new link to the mystery of The Mystic's Dream: it was the existence of a journal that his early ancestors had kept, documenting their creations and the process in which they were made in the earliest stages of their life. After an entire Sunday of digging through archives and online libraries Satoshi had finally come across this tiny tidbit. He had been excited and anxious, but he first had to speak to Daisuke about it.

Because the journal was in a very secure place and his status as Chief Commander of Police wouldn't be enough to get him what he needed.

That meant, as much as Satoshi hated to admit it, that he needed the help of a very good thief.

-------------------------

"Harada-san, before you glare at me again and tell me to go away I have to give you this," Takeshi said, thrusting a piece of paper in front of her nose. Risa glared down at it and then back at him.

"What is it?" she asked. He shook the paper at her and then dropped it on top of her notebook.

"A note from the art department. They said you left some of your things in the art room last Friday. If you want to pick them up you can go now." He rubbed his neck with both hands and watched her pick up the note and read over it. "Or you could actually help the rest of the class with the play that we're _all_ supposed to be putting on for the festival," he added sarcastically. Risa ignored his offer and stood up, dropping her pen and pocketing the note.

"No, thank you," she said answered sweetly, brushing past him. "I'd rather not."

"Where are you going, Risa?"

Risa turned and saw her sister sitting at the back of the classroom, pouring over the dress they had both made together for Freedert. She felt a small stab of guilt for not helping, but her heart, or her hands, were in the mood.

"I have a note from the art room. I'll just be a minute."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?" Riku was already setting down her needle and getting up, but Risa stopped her with a shake of her head.

"I'll be fine. I don't need an escort around the school."

She knew her sister had been worried about her all weekend. In truth, they had both been extremely disoriented all of Sunday. Risa had cried herself to sleep the night before and had woken up in the clothes Daisuke's mother had lent her, her arms holding tightly onto her pillow. She had found Riku laid out on the sofa in the living room, and when she asked how she'd gotten there Riku couldn't find an answer. Both of them had been confused and drained all day, but Risa could not hide her chaotic feelings from her sister very well. Riku definitely knew something was wrong with her twin, and the only escape Risa could think of was to keep her distance from her older sister until she could deal with her feelings herself.

"Okay then. Don't wander about," Riku offered.

"I won't," she assured her, and then turned to slip quietly from the bustling room, her eyes involuntarily stealing a glance at Satoshi's empty seat.

---------------------------

He climbed Azumano Middle School's stairs, one hand rubbing his forehead and the other holding tightly onto his books. He had a headache from staying up so late and his shoulder had a knot in it from Saturday night, when Krad had appeared and his body had to bear the weight of those beastly wings. He vaguely thought of Daisuke and wondered why he never showed the effects of Dark's magic, which led him to think of Riku and if she ever got home that night…which led him to think of Risa and if she had been all right…

…which led him to shaking his head and getting the image of her out of his mind. He had decided that it was very, very dangerous to think or speak about Risa. He had noted, with much dismay, denial and disappointment at Krad's silent elation, that his heart had a tendency to pound harder when he thought of Risa Harada. A pounding heart could lead to horrible things with white wings, and Satoshi was desperate to keep those things confined.

He dropped his hand with a sigh and jogged up to the fourth floor landing, offhandedly taking out his cell phone and switching it to vibrate to give himself something to do. He would just have to keep his distance with the younger Harada.

Which, in truth, couldn't be that hard, right? They weren't even really friends…

-----------------------------

The Horn of **Silence** lay underneath a canvas covering in the Niwa household, still shimmering and glowing as it had been since Saturday night. Since the horn had appeared the sky had been without a moon for two nights, an anomaly in its usual monthly cycle, as the ever inventive weather men and newswomen liked to put it. Since the episode on Saturday night the Niwa family had kept The Mystic's Dream and **Silence** in the living room next to the window, a large, canvas sheet laid over both. They had discovered the hard way that if they tried to put either artwork in the tower basement with the other Niwa treasures the life of those artworks reacted chaotically. They had been disturbed by the presence of **Silence** and had been thrown into mayhem and confusion by The Mystic's Dream.

After Emiko, Kosuke and Daiki had subdued the artworks the family had decided to keep both pieces in a separate room. The only one who had been tentative with this decision had been Towa, but after much convincing and bland acceptance she had agreed, and they had shrouded the two sculptures in the corner of the living room.

But now, in the promising sunshine of a new day, while Towa was vacuuming the downstairs hallway, Daiki was reading the newspaper outside, Kosuke was gardening in the front yard and Emiko was at the store, a corner of the canvas that had been threatening to slip finally succeeded, and the small edge of the Horn of **Silence** was exposed to the shining light.

Instantly the glowing engravings on the horn dissolved into faerie dust, glittering and shimmering and floating about until they faded away, like stars during the oncoming dawn. Soon, **Silence** had reverted to its original, plain, silver state, and, next to it, The Mystic's Dream remained veiled, silent, and maliciously awaiting her rebirth by moonlight once more…

----------------

Risa slid the classroom door closed behind her and sighed heavily, leaning against it to gather her wits. _Like a schoolgirl_, she thought condescendingly about herself. _Like a stupid, lovestruck schoolgirl. You're no better than those silly fan club girls who leave pink love notes in his desk during lunch. That's how you were with Dark…_

Risa looked up and moved towards the window, leaning against the frame and staring down onto the lacrosse field. There had been so many times that she had sat in the stands and watched Riku during her games, and, these past months, she had done so with Daisuke, both of them cheering her on. Risa had always thought it sweet that Daisuke came to her sister's games, but she had never really envied it. It was such a small concept, watching your girlfriend's games. When she had been in love with Dark she had never wanted him to do anything like that.

She was content with just knowing that he might appear on the news sometime during the evening.

But now…

Now Risa imagined herself in Riku's spot, running across that field and turning her head to search the crowd for the head of her supportive, older sister and a bright blue one sitting next to her…

"Geez, Risa, could you possibly think of anything else?" she said out loud, scolding herself. She turned away from the window in a huff and started down the hallway, towards the staircase. "Sometimes I think Riku is right," she mumbled. "You are immature." She walked slowly through the corridor, fiddling with the extra hair tie she had slipped onto her wrist that morning. As she walked Risa glanced up at her reflection in the windows and stared at herself. How many hours in the day did she primp herself in front of a mirror so that she'd look like the epitome of beauty if ever Dark came to call?

Which, of course, he never did…

How much time did she spend on her hair and her face and her clothes? Time ill-spent. Time, she now realized, wasted. In lazy indignation she tugged the band from her wrist and gathered her silky locks behind her head, hurriedly binding it into a messy ponytail. Why had she always insisted in wearing her hair down? It got in her face all the time, obscuring her vision when she bent over to write something and blowing into her eyes on a windy day. It was such a hassle when she left it down, being so long. So why had she insisted upon it?

Because she had thought it was prettier down.

Now, she understood, that hair didn't matter.

Risa wasn't paying attention and lightly bumped into someone coming up the staircase. A tall, distracted and very real someone with bright blue hair and a cell phone in his hand. She looked up into the familiar blue eyes and immediately felt the blood rush to her face, heating her disappointment at the beginning of the day and thawing her cold anger.

She stepped back, nervous. What was she supposed to do?

"I'm sorry, Harada-san. I didn't see you," he said, staring down at her. Did he know he was so tall? She had to tilt her head back just to face him properly.

"It's…it's okay," she said in a dark monotone, averting her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at him. Now, when she was in the actual presence of Satoshi Hiwatari, she felt that her feelings were plastered clearly across her face for everyone to scrutinize.

And she felt ashamed of them.

So she needed to hide them.

"Where are you going?" he asked conversationally, his tone polite as he pocketed his phone. Risa was immediately distracted by his long fingered hands; hands, she could vaguely remember, tracing something in red ink with beautiful fluidity. The thought puzzled her just as much as it enraged her.

"The art room. I was sent there." She spoke her words in a clipped way, almost rude. But she had to push him way, throw him off the scent of her raging heart. "You're late."

"Yeah. I got…side-tracked." He said it nonchalantly, as if there wasn't a group of obsessed middle school fan girls crying their heart out over his absence. The thought of those fan club girls instantly brought up a significant jealousy in Risa. "Why? Are we working on the play today?"

Why was he talking to her? Why was he trying to be polite now? Couldn't he tell that she didn't want him anywhere near her? Couldn't he see it on her face and hear it in her voice? "Yeah. They're all in there. You better go." And with that, amazingly, she brushed past him and hurried down the staircase, trying to fight the urge to look back.

---------------------

Satoshi did not expect anything less from her. His thoughts towards Risa Harada might have been altered over the weekend, but he couldn't expect her to feel any differently. Granted he needed to keep his distance, but somehow, seeing her again, he had felt almost obligated to show at least a little politeness, if not compassion.

The feeling puzzled him.

He had never before felt compelled to speak to people.

He had never before felt as if he _cared_ for someone.

_"So, now you care for her, Satoshi-dono?"_

Satoshi felt his eyes narrow in hatred and pushed forward, his long strides taking him to his classroom down the hall. "Don't talk, Krad," he mumbled under his breath. "Just don't talk." Inside his head he could hear the deep rumble of amused laughter.

Satoshi reached his classroom and slid the door open quietly, hoping that the chaos within would mask his tardy entrance and he would be able to slip silently into his seat without people making such a big fuss. But, then again, he had a terrible talent for drawing much more attention than he wanted, and the minute he stepped into the bustling classroom he heard his name squealed out and everyone had turned and had pounced on him as one.

"Hiwatari-san, where have you been?"

"We have the whole day to work on the play, Hiwatari-san. Isn't that great?"

"Hiwatari-kun, did the jacket fit you last time you tried it on? I want to make sure it's perfect."

"Why are you so late?"

"Have you seen Niwa-san's costume? The Harada twins have been working on it all weekend--,"

"—because you weren't here, so we'll have to back track to scene--,"

"—a great job with Dark's wings!"

Satoshi stepped back slightly and leaned away, trying to avoid all the objects and questions that were being thrown into his face. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply, trying to gather the strength he would need to calmly deal with every single demand shoved in his face, just as he'd always done in the past.

"I'm sorry I was late. I overslept." For some strange, unknown reason this small tidbit of information caused many of the girls in the room to look at each other and giggle. Satoshi ignored it and edged through the crowd, striding to his desk and depositing his things on its empty surface. Behind him his classmates had thankfully decided that their jobs were more important than him and had slowly dispersed back to their work. From the front of the room Saehara was yelling for Daisuke and him to rehearse the first act.

"Rough night?" someone asked him. Satoshi looked up and saw Daisuke sitting on the floor behind his desk, his back leaning against the wall and his legs bent in front of him. He had the same lazy, lopsided grin on his face and his casual demeanor was a refreshing relief from the noisy greeting of his peers.

"They always are." Satoshi turned back to his books and shuffled through them, trying to find his script.

"Here you go, Niwa!" Both boys looked up in time to see a flowing blonde wig fly through the air towards Daisuke's face. With a quick ease, as if he wasn't even trying, Daisuke snatched the wig from the air and held it in front of his face. From across the room Riku smiled sweetly at him and then turned back to the dress she was still fussing over.

"Thanks," Dai called back lightly. Satoshi continued to stare at her.

"How is she?" he asked. Daisuke kept his eyes on the older Harada, shrugging lightly.

"She's fine. My dad brought her home Saturday night and made sure she was safe. I don't think she remembers much of that day. She can remember a little about going to the beach, meeting with you, and coming to my house, but anything after that is gone. I think we're still safe."

Satoshi took deep note of that tidbit: _we're_. As if they were not two opposites, not enemies, not black and white. Instead, he said it as if they were together. Like friends.

"She's fine otherwise?" he asked. The redhead nodded.

"I was worried at first, but she seems to be herself." He turned his head to look at him. "Did you run into Harada-san on your way here?"

Satoshi felt a sudden wave of panic at the mention Risa. "Yes, actually, I did. But she was in a hurry, I think. I barely spoke to her." He looked down at him from the corner of his glasses. "How is she?" he asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"She's seems okay, too. She didn't say or ask anything about Saturday."

"Good," Satoshi replied. He remembered tracing the Lunar Crest in front of her and even using her as part of the small ceremony. She had taken the action lightly at the moment, but he did not want any memory of it to resurface. "Let's keep it that way."

"Niwa! Hiwatari! Can we start this thing some time today?" Saehara whined from the front of the classroom. Daisuke offered him a wave and pushed himself to his feet. Satoshi resolved to say nothing.

"Duty calls," Dai said playfully, passing through the desks with Satoshi. "You know, Hiwatari, I never would have thought that you would be doing something like this."

"What do you mean?"

"You like to keep to yourself. Performing in front of a big crowd of people doesn't exactly fit under that category."

Satoshi ignored the wailing Takeshi as he passed him and stood in front of the blackboard, in the position that he had been placed. "They voted on me." And he left it at that, thinking that his answer was perfectly legitimate and blatantly apparent.

"Right," was all Daisuke could say in reply.

----------------------

Risa stepped into the empty classroom, her anger having diminished somewhat on the journey. She didn't know whether she should have congratulated herself on her performance or mentally kicked herself, so she had let the subject die to be dealt with later.

Quietly, and with a tiny sense of intrusion, Risa crossed the room and over to the easel she had using last week, already noticing her brush case sitting on the floor where she had left it. She bent down to pick it up but felt it was a pointless gesture. She wasn't a very good artist anyway.

Risa looked up from her case and awarded herself a thorough gaze of the room. She had never come here after their class hours to work on any projects; she was usually always done at the end of class. So she felt like an intruder into this place, a place where she didn't belong. She knew Daisuke came in here often and that Riku had watched him as he worked on all different kinds of paintings. She had to admit, he wasn't the greatest painter she had ever seen but he was much better than he gave himself credit for.

Smiling, she made her way across the room to Daisuke's easel, staring at the empty frame. She could imagine all the times her and Riku had poured over his shoulder, taking joy in making him uncomfortable and self-conscious about his work. Riku had always been kinder.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the easel next to Niwa's. It had never registered to her before that Satoshi worked right next to Daisuke, painting his pictures side by side. For a moment she had an image of him drawing something beautifully on a floor somewhere, but Risa had never watched Satoshi paint or draw. The teacher had always praised his work and showed it off to the class, but she had never paid attention.

She never did pay much attention.

Risa sighed, strode away from the easel, and left the classroom.

---------------

"You're a bad actor," Takeshi droned, staring with narrow eyes at Daisuke. The poor boy looked hurt and stared down at his script, trying to find his spot.

"I'm trying, I'm trying! It's not easy playing a girl."

"I play a girl," Takeshi shot back, but his rebuttal was hollow and raised a silent reply. He sighed theatrically and dropped his script on the floor, rubbing his eyes. "Okay Daisuke, just take it from the beginning of the scene."

"Again? But we're halfway through."

"Yes, but you don't give the part the feeling that it needs! Dark is supposed to be distant and troubled, so Hiwatari is doing fine. You're supposed to be shocked and emotional! I want emotion!"

Daisuke sighed and rolled his eyes, trying to suppress his embarrassment, and flipped back to the beginning of the scene. At least the rest of the class wasn't watching too avidly. Everyone was coming in and out of the classroom, some of them gone to the empty room down the hall to work on the set. Everyone had a job to do.

Daisuke glanced over at Satoshi who was leafing through his own booklet, leaning against the blackboard lazily.

"Take it from your line, Hiwatari," Takeshi said offhandedly, waving to them as he plopped down behind a desk. Satoshi stood up straight and stared down at the page, his face calm and unfazed.

"Freedert," he said, not looking at Daisuke. "I have to tell you the truth."

"No, Dark. You don't have to. I don't want to hear it." Daisuke spoke in a short staccato, reciting his lines because, in truth, he had not memorized them yet. This was supposed to be the scene when Dark confessed his feelings to Freedert, although Freedert was supposed to think that he had no feelings for her at all. It was an emotional point in the storyline.

Daisuke wished they could just skip over it.

"I can't keep this secret anymore. It's destroying me inside." Satoshi took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. "Just listen. For me." He replaced them on his face and crossed his arms, waiting.

"You're supposed to grab Freedert's hand, Hiwatari," Saehara growled, his patience waning. "So grab his hand."

With only the slightest hesitation Satoshi stepped forward and held out his hand, waiting. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Daisuke let him take his and continue on with his lines. The heat filled his face slowly as Hiwatari recited.

"If I mean anything to you," he went on, "you will let me speak."

Just then the door to the classroom slid open and one of the student girls who helped in the front office came in, interrupting the scene. The three boys were the only ones who looked up as she entered.

"Oh, um, is Niwa Daisuke here?" she asked, reading the name off an envelope. Daisuke raised his free hand.

"That's me," he said. The girl looked at him, noticed a boy was holding his hand, noticed that the boy was Satoshi Hiwatari, and giggled, her face blushing a deep red. Daisuke followed her gaze and panicked, pulling his hand free and backing away. Satoshi didn't seem to notice and dropped his arm to his side, resolving to lean against the blackboard once more.

"I have a message for you," the girl said, holding out the envelope. Daisuke took it and stared down at his name.

"Who sent this?" he asked, turning it over and tearing it open. She shrugged, her attention already distracted by Satoshi. She was watching him carefully, a smile on her face at the good fortune that she had been sent to_ his_ classroom. He ignored her and took out his cell phone.

Daisuke shrugged and pulled out the little slip of paper from the envelope. He immediately recognized his mother's swirling cursive and looping signature _E.N. _at the end:

_Dai,_

_The horn is gone. We have a situation at the art museum downtown; a situation that needs a certain, special thief. Towa will be waiting for you at the museum. _

_You must go. Now._

_E.N._

-------------------------

Daisuke Niwa suddenly crumpled the paper he had been reading and looked up abruptly, turning to the girl who had brought him the envelope. Satoshi glanced up and watched him. He looked distressed.

"Um, I have to go," he said curtly, looking at the girl, then Takeshi and then himself. Satoshi stood up straighter, knowing by the fists curled at Niwa's sides that something was terribly wrong.

"Is everything all right?" he asked. Daisuke met his eyes and Satoshi saw panic there and watched as he tried to mask it over with indifference.

"Everything's fine," he said, already backing up to his desk. "I just—there's a family emergency at home and I have to go—now…." He snatched up his bag and coat and began weaving through his classmates and desks. "I'm sorry--,"

"Sorry? Sorry!" Saehara was furious. "Sorry isn't going to cut it, Niwa! We have a rehearsal to do? I still haven't finished blocking this scene!"

"I know, and I hate to leave--." But he didn't look as if he hated it. "But this is important." He saw the last row of desks and, with and easy grace, leapt over the row and landed catlike beside the girl next to the door. Once again Satoshi wondered how none of their classmates had never noticed that Niwa had the makings of a master thief.

"Niwa," he said, stepping forward. He still hadn't had a chance to talk to him about the journal he had uncovered. "Are you sure--,"

"It's fine," he answered sincerely, attempting a comforting smile at Satoshi and backing out of the classroom. "Really, it is. We'll talk later."

But Saehara was still livid. "So what am I supposed to do now? Cancel the rehearsal!"

"Just get someone to read the part for me," Daisuke suggest, waving at him. "I'll see you later!"

"Niwa? Niwa! Who am I going to get to read the role? Everyone's busy!" But Daisuke had already gone, the love struck office girl trailing in his wake. Takeshi stared at the empty doorway, his mouth hanging open in dramatic outrage. Satoshi had never seen him look so flabbergasted. "Daisuke didn't listen to me," he said quietly, brow furrowed in confusion. Then his eyes narrowed and gritted his teeth. "I'm going to kill him." He spun around and glared at Satoshi. Satoshi just stared back, not exactly knowing what to do. "What am I supposed to do now?" he asked him. Satoshi shrugged, not really caring either way.

"We could stop," he suggested, half serious and half sarcastic. Takeshi almost exploded.

"We can't just stop; we don't have time for that anymore! We're going to have to keep going," he added theatrically. Satoshi raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. His face was getting red.

"Niwa said to get someone to read the part," he reminded him. Takeshi threw up his hands hopelessly.

"But where are we going to find someone who isn't already doing anything?"

Risa walked in the door, leaning her head back a little and staring down the hallway. "Why is Niwa leaving?" she asked no one in particular. Takeshi spun his head around and stared at her, a new light brightening his eyes. Satoshi saw the happiness on his face, saw Risa Harada walk into the room, and knew that, no matter how many times he wished it, his life would never cease to be a conveniently twisted movie. "Isn't he supposed to be in rehearsal?"

"Saehara, I think we should just cancel it for today--,"

"Harada-san!" Takeshi rushed at Risa and grabbed her by the shoulders. The poor girl, surprised, blinked confusedly and leaned away from him.

"Saehara-san," she answered back. Satoshi watched them with bated breath, hoping that what was about to happen wasn't going to happen. Already he could feel the heat rising on his neck. He thought he saw Risa's eyes flick momentarily over him, but then she was looking at Takeshi again. "What?"

"You're not doing anything," he said excitedly, smiling like a maniac. Risa shrugged and shook her head.

"Yes, I know."

"You can read for Niwa's part!"

Satoshi bowed his head and walked to the other side of the room, panic rising. Why was he getting so nervous?

"Read for Niwa?" she asked offhandedly. But then she seemed to get the gist of what he was asking and then repeated, much more quietly, "you mean, read in Niwa's place? As in, stand in for him?"

Takeshi nodded, replacing her case of brushes with his own script and pulling her to the center of the room. Satoshi could hear the commotion behind him and closed his eyes. Why? Why now?

"I can at least block Hiwatari's part, and you can fill Niwa in on what he has to do."

"Saehara-san, I'm not really that good of an actress--,"

"Are you kidding me? You love to act!"

"Yeah, well, I still have some homework that I need to--,"

"You're the only one in the class who isn't working on the play."

"Because I--,"

"Just stand in for Niwa! I'm sure Hiwatari here won't mind, will you, Hiwatari?" There was a nudge on Satoshi's back and he glanced around at Takeshi's winking face and Risa's bright red one. Her eyes were averted and she looked highly uncomfortable. She probably would have wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. "Will you, Hiwatari?" the boy prompted. Satoshi hesitated, and then tried to shrug listlessly.

"Of course not."

But inside, he did.

He really, really did.

-----------------------

Risa could feel her entire body screaming with adrenaline. How had she gotten here? How was it that she was standing at the front of the classroom with a script in her hands, staring down at Daisuke's lines as she stood in as Freedert to _Satoshi Hiwatari's_ Dark?

How ironic was this situation?

"Do I—what am I supposed to do?" she asked quietly. She glanced sidelong at Satoshi and saw him look anywhere but at her. The idea made her want to crumble up and hide.

"You don't have to do anything but recite Freedert's line and stand there and look pretty," Takeshi said nonchalantly. Risa blushed scarlet but Saehara continued to stare at her. "In which case _this_ doesn't help," and he reached up, took hold of her hair tie, and tore it out of her hair, letting her long, brown tresses to fall freely around her face.

"Saehara!" She swatted him away, indignant. "You could have just asked!" But the boy only shrugged and returned to his seat. Risa suddenly felt boldly exposed with her hair down and she couldn't bring herself to look at Satoshi. Not that it mattered anyway; he obviously had absolutely no interest in her.

"Okay, let's take it where we left off. Hiwatari, hold Harada-san's hand."

Risa could have sworn she felt her stomach drop. There was a pause that felt as if it lasted eons and then Risa felt Satoshi's large, long-fingered hand take her own tiny one. Her heart skipped one, two, three beats.

"Any day now, Hiwatari," Takeshi whined. Risa glanced up from the floor. Satoshi was staring avidly at his script, completely immersed in the writing, his hand gently holding hers.

"If I mean anything to you, you will let me speak," he said, his familiar, detached baritone rumbling in her skin. Risa tried to push her nervousness and anxiety aside and stared down at her own script, finding Freedert's lines and reading them out loud.

"Dark," she said, her voice awfully quiet. "You mean everything to me." How cruel, Risa thought. She was reciting Freedert's own words as her own, speaking them to Satoshi Hiwatari while he was playing Dark. She unconsciously moved her fingers and felt Satoshi's hold tighten the slightest bit. Her heart jumped to her throat.

Such a cruel, cruel irony.

-----------------------

Satoshi did not know which was worse. Standing here, pretending to be Phantom Thief Dark, or standing here and pretending to be Phantom Thief Dark to Risa Harada.

"Freedert, for years I have flown the night skies, stealing art wherever I may," he said, gritting his teeth against the thought. How many times had Dark slipped between his grasp, claiming yet another piece of Hikari creation? "But I never let anything distract me for too long. I never let myself go wayward." Go wayward? Satoshi frowned at the wording. Saehara had absolutely no future as a literate writer. "But then…then I met you."

"Now this is where you drop to one knee and press Freedert's lovely hand to your heart," Takeshi injected, his face cracked in a maniacal grin. Both Satoshi and Risa glanced sideways at him.

"Press her hand?" Risa squeaked.

"To my chest," Satoshi confirmed, staring at him. Takeshi nodded. "You do know that this is going to be Niwa's hand and not Harada-san's," he confirmed, glaring hard at the boy. Takeshi only nodded.

"I know. Now do it." And he sat back in his seat and waited. With a heavy sigh, (mostly because his knee had been hurting since Saturday), Satoshi lowered himself slowly to one knee and tilted his head back to get a better look at Risa. She wasn't looking at him but at the blackboard. He noticed that her hair had grown longer since the last time he'd noticed. It was far past her shoulders now. "Harada-san, you should be looking deep into his eyes."

Risa turned to glare pointedly at Takeshi. "No," she growled. "And don't you dare make me."

"She doesn't have to," Satoshi offered, shrugging at their director. Risa glanced sideways at him but he didn't want to see the appreciation on her face. For some reason it bothered him that she didn't at least _want_ to look into his eyes.

Not that he cared.

"Yes she does. This is why I wanted Niwa here; I want to explore the full effect of my directing so I can know if my work will move the audience to tears." He was looking off into the distance, his eyes starry and glazed over. Satoshi felt awkward.

"Saehara-san, really." Risa dropped her voice and leaned close to him, or as close as she could get without pulling her hand away from his. "Don't as me to do that."

"I'm not," he responded to her, pushing her back to her spot. "I'm telling you." He pointed at Satoshi. "Now look."

--------------

She didn't want to look because she was afraid.

Afraid that staring into his bright, blue eyes would break her resolve and she'd burst into the same tears she had shed on Saturday night. The tears that said she was completely smitten with him and she was no better than his wailing fan club girls.

She was afraid that if she looked into his eyes and heard him say the words that Dark was supposed to say to Freedert…she might take it and make it her own. She might hear something that wasn't meant for her. She would hear him say 'I love you' but he wouldn't be talking to her.

She didn't want to look because his eyes were too blue. Sapphire blue. Azure blue. Sky blue. Royal blue. Every blue.

But apart from that…

He was brilliant.

And gallant.

And honorable.

And chivalrous, for God's sake.

…

Risa was absolutely, head over heels, heart in her stomach, mind drawing a blank and weak in the knees in like with him.

In serious like with him.

She felt like crying again.

--------------

This situation wasn't helping anything at all. It was taking all of Satoshi's strength to suppress his rapidly beating heart and shaking nerves. How had it become so hard for him? Usually, when yet another mysterious girl approached him with a letter and flowers and confessions of love, Satoshi was able to uphold the ordeal with a cool calmness. Mainly because he knew deep down that those girls were completely superficial; that, if anything, they had fallen in love with his exterior rather than his interior. And, to be honest, his interior was one chaotic mess.

So why was holding Risa's hand to his heart so hard for him to endure? She was just another superficial girl, right? I mean, honestly, Risa Harada was at the forefront of the mob of fan girls that plagued Dark's nightly excursions. She had fallen for him the moment she saw him on television, just like every other girl. She loved his suave, debonair, (and grotesque), charm. They all loved his charm. He was a ladies' man.

And Risa was Dark's first lady.

But, then again…

Was it _because_ Risa didn't fall over him that made her seem different? She had never once left him a love letter or had gawked at him during class or intercepted him after school or during lunch. She had left him in almost complete peace, both her and her sister. It was refreshing.

She had even been there the day Niwa and Riku and burst into his apartment. In fact, she had been the one to help patch him up. Granted the encounter was highly uncomfortable and a little strange, but she had been there in his bedroom and it hadn't seemed wrong.

And then her reaction on Saturday…

She had been so calm when they had been in Daisuke's room, moments away from being attacked by a dangerous artwork. She had complied with his wishes and even participated in his magical ritual, and all the while not screaming or wailing or running away. She had accepted it.

She had accepted him.

And that _had_ to be the reason for his nerves.

Right?

------------------------

Daisuke flashed his card at the operator and grabbed on to a handrail, waiting for the rest of the passengers to board so the trolley could be on its way. He took the moment to breathe deeply and lean his forehead against the cold metal of the pole, his jacket and schoolbag dangling from his hand. He chanced a glance at his watch and sighed. It would take him at least twenty minutes to get downtown, and he didn't want to waste any energy transforming into Dark and flying down there.

He wasn't sure what it was that would be waiting for him.

--------------------------

There was a loud crash from the hallway followed by a hollow 'boom' and several screams. Everyone in the classroom stopped what they were doing and fell silent, frowning at the doorway. Takeshi jumped to his feet and hurried over, leaning out the door and searching for the cause of the commotion.

"What happened?"

"What was that, Saehara-san?"

"Did somebody get hurt?"

"Oh no," Takeshi sighed, rolling his eyes and pulling back into the room. "The set broke when they were trying to bring it out of the classroom. Come on, we're going to need everyone to help drag this thing out of the hallway before the professors start yelling at us. Grab your jackets, were heading outside and it's kind of windy." He beckoned his fellow classmates to follow and almost everyone set done their jobs with a grumble and headed out, snatching up sweaters and coats as they went. Satoshi started to rise to his feet but felt the bruised nerve in his knee spasm with a strange numbness. He felt it buckle under the weight.

"Ah--,"

"Be careful…!" Risa sprang forward and grasped him around the waist, supporting him enough so he could stand on his own. When he was steady on his feet she stepped back, her hands lingering behind, worried that he might collapse. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned. He only nodded.

"Perfectly fine. Just a momentary lapse," he mumbled. He stepped away from her and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for." She rubbed her neck nervously and stepped farther away. "Um—we better go help them," and she backed up to her desk. "You should put something on, you know. It's a little colder today than it has been these couple of weeks."

"I'm fine," Satoshi shrugged, actually pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. "I don't get cold easily."

"Oh. Okay." She reached into her school bag and pulled out the familiar white jacket, slipping it on with practiced ease. Satoshi watched, fascinated, as the long sleeves spilled over her hands and the hemline hung past her hips.

"You still have that men's jacket," he heard himself say. She looked up at him while she adjusted the collar and stared. For a while she looked confused and then she suddenly remembered what they were talking about and touched the lapel.

"Oh! You mean this? Y-yeah, I still have it." She seemed uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as Satoshi felt. It was strange, seeing his clothing on Risa Harada. It made his stomach twist in a strange, almost sickening, way.

"Oh."

She pulled her hair free from the collar and pointed to the door. "We better go help," she said. He nodded, turning his back to her.

"Yeah, we should." And they did.

----------------------

_A long, long time ago The Mystic's Dream stood in a room with Krad, the white half of the Black Wings. They stood facing each other in the dead of night, the full ambiance of the moon spilling in through the glass windows. She was standing in all of her beautiful glory, her hair hanging down to her knees and her blue, prism eyes dancing. Krad stood in the black shirt and trousers that his tamer had been wearing, his signature cross lying on the ground in front of him. They stared at each other._

_"I will find you again," the Mystic said, her voice trailing in the air. Krad frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. Usually the sinister creature was seen as a laughing sadist or else a sneering monster. He was neither tonight. He was simply frowning._

_"I do not doubt that you will," he answered. "But I do predict that it will be a long, long time from now." He flexed his wings and they reached up for the ceiling. She titled her head to the side, watching them move._

_"You are…beautiful…". She took a step forward…and then another step…and then another…. Krad did not move but watched her approach. She came right up to him, looking up to his face. She was breathtaking._

_Krad was a full head taller and he watched in frozen fascination as she placed her palms flat against his chest and rose to her toes, her face inches from his. He kept his features impassive. His chest remained cold and unfeeling. He narrowed his eyes._

_"Why me?" he asked. She reached up and touched his cheek, her eyes staring as their skin made contact. "Why not Dark?"_

_"Because." Every word she spoke was like a song. "Hikaris are not stained black." She passed her fingers over his brow, leaving behind a cold, freezing touch. Krad knew what she was doing, despised it, loathed and abhorred it, ever sought it, yet could not stop it. The Mystic placed her hand on the nape of his neck. "They are tainted white." _

_And the kiss she gave to Krad, the only kiss he had ever received, was something he would never…ever…forget…_

**Author's Note: **Well, there you go everyone. I hope you like this chapter even though it took a long time for me to post it. ) Anyway, some future updates: Everything will start coming together soon and we'll delve into the Mystic's Dream even more, not to mention uncovering the creation of **Silence** and getting a little more complicated with our favorite Hikari and Harada. For tidbits, fanfiction updates and excerpt cookies from upcoming chapters, go to my livejournal at Hope you guys liked this chapter! Read, review and eat your veggies.


	13. Searching For Answers They Did Not Know

**Chapter Thirteen—Searching For Answers They Did Not Know**

"Women are beautiful. Everything they do is beautiful." --Edward Kynaston, _Stage Beauty_

-------------------------

Daisuke jogged his way up the museum steps, slipping on his coat as he went. A chill breeze had been blowing all day, a strange development at this time of year. He vaguely wondered if it had anything to do with **Silence**.

"Dai!"

Towa was standing in the middle of the vast entry courtyard, a noticeable contrast compared to the people milling about around her. She swung her arm wildly over her head, waving him over. Dai fixed his collar, slung his bag over one shoulder and trotted over to where she stood.

"Oh Dai, I always forget how handsome you look in your school uniform," she squealed upon his approach, reaching forward to brush lint off his shoulder. Daisuke couldn't help but smile. All weekend Towa had been acting strange and silent, so it was good to have her bubbly and chipper once again.

"Hi, Towa." He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. "So, what's going on? I got a letter from mom saying that the horn is gone. What happened to it?"

The wide-eyed Guide shrugged, glancing around, to see if anyone was paying too close attention to them, before leaning close to him and whispering. "We had just noticed that the markings had disappeared from it when it just suddenly vanished. Emiko-san noticed the horn the minute she came home, and when we went to look at it, it faded away in Kosuke-san's hands. The artworks having been acting strangely as well. They're restless and afraid; their magic is acting up and it could get dangerous, having so many in one place." She shivered involuntarily. "Even I didn't like being in the house. That's why I volunteered to meet you here."

"Are you all right then, Towa?"

"Yes, I'm fine now. Thank you Dai, you're so sweet." She sighed. "It's just…The Mystic's Dream. I did not like having it around in the first place, but now, with the horn gone, it makes me even more uncomfortable than before."

Daisuke's brow furrowed as he thought. "But why? There is a definite connection between The Mystic and **Silence**, but we can't know the whole story unless we know their history. And all we have of that is a storybook--,"

"No, Dai, no we don't!" Towa was jumping up and down, her tiny hands grabbing onto his shirt. "That is why you're here! We found something, Dai. Emiko-san has found something!"

Daisuke looked surprised. "She did?" he asked. Towa nodded. "What? What is it?"

She smiled enthusiastically and bent her head in close. "A journal."

----------------------

"Set it down here," Takeshi called out and the three other boys helping, including Satoshi, bent down and gently laid the large and very ornate castle backdrop on the floor of the auditorium. His classmates all groaned and gingerly touched their backs, complaining and whining. Satoshi just stood quietly, waiting for any more instructions that might be thrown his way.

The set wasn't even that heavy.

"Could someone please help us with this? We shouldn't even be carrying it," Ritsuko wailed, trudging through the side curtains onto the stage. She was hauling the huge oak tree from act one behind her, Risa pushing from the other side.

"It's not that bad," Risa was mumbling. "It's on wheels--,"

"It's _heavy_!" Ritsuko stomped her foot, pulling weakly on the tree. "Somebody take this!"

"I'll help you." Satoshi moved to stand next to her, holding out his hands for the rope she was tugging on. Ritsuko gasped and jumped, spinning around and facing him. Her face flushed a deep red and the other girls within earshot fell silent and watched.

"Oh…Hiwatari-san.…" She looked down, trying to fight the smile that was threatening her mouth. "I…that would be…thank you…."

"Not at all," he drawled, and took the rope in his own hands. He glanced over his shoulder at Risa. "I've got this, Harada-san."

She stepped away from the tree, her hands shrinking back into the white sleeves of her jacket. "Are you sure? I could still help--,"

"Don't worry. It's on wheels, just like you said." He pulled the rope over his shoulder and guided it into a corner next to the castle. For some strange, unknown and mysterious reason, this made many of the girls giggle.

And, to be brutally honest, it was starting to get on his last nerve.

"Um, Hiwatari-sempai."

Satoshi turned around and looked down to see one of the more quiet girls of his class looking up at him with wide, almost watery eyes. He stared down at her, taken aback. But now he was cornered, pushed into the alcove between the tree and the castle, and with no visible way to escape. He felt like an ogre, staring down at this tiny, little girl, but he also felt extremely intimidated.

"Er—yes?" he asked. She smiled weakly at him and blushed.

"Saehara-san asked me to bring in the wings for Dark, and I was wondering if you would like to help me? He told me to get someone to help, seeing as the wings are so big."

What was he supposed to say? He wanted to say no because she seemed like yet another lovestruck girl hoping to confess her feelings to him. But, then again, he did not want to appear presumptuous and egotistical, because maybe she really _did_ just need his help.

He sighed and nodded. "Okay," was his only reply and he swept his arm out for her, indicating that she lead the way. The girl's smile was unnaturally wide and she set off, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he followed.

Which, of course, he did.

----------------------

In which case he followed, of course. Because that was who Satoshi was and Risa could not change that.

As smart and independent as he was, Satoshi's cold silence tended to make him susceptible to people and their demands. She noticed that when asked, he would always say yes. Yes to the play, yes to dressing as Dark, and yes to helping people carry black wings in from the classroom.

And it did not help to know that the girl he was going with had, moments before, been in a deep conversation with her friends about whether or not she should take her chance to confess her love to Satoshi. It had made Risa jealous, certainly, but it also made her angry. Satoshi had made it obvious over the years that he did not like it when girls cornered him with a confession, and she thought it selfish of this girl to think that today would be any different.

"I could help you," Risa heard herself offer, stepping forward and stopping them. They both looked back at her. "I mean, Saehara needs people to secure the castle to the ropes, and Hiwatari-san _is_ the tallest boy in the class." She shrugged, smiling at the look on the girl's face. "I'll help with the wings in his place--,"

"Harada-san! You're sister needs you!"

Risa winced at the incredibly bad timing and glanced over her shoulder. Ritsuko was waving to her, beckoning her over with a flick of her wrist. "She needs help with Niwa's costume!"

"Well, I guess you're busy as well," the girl replied smugly. She turned to Satoshi and smiled. "The wings are back in the classroom," she said, and trounced off knowing, full well, that he was going to follow. Satoshi started after her once more.

"Hiwatari," she started to say. He stopped walking and turned to her, waiting. She bit her lip. "I don't mean to sound rude, but she only wants your help so she can tell you she loves you. I overheard her talking with her friends about it." She tried to smile at him but found that the action felt guilty. Satoshi cocked his head to one side, watching her.

"You were eavesdropping?" he suddenly asked, the slightest, most minute grin playing onto his face. Risa shook her head.

"I can't help it if they were loud," she said shrugging. The smile she offered him was a friendly one, and he accepted it. "I'm just...warning you."

"Why?"

She looked at the ground, thinking. Why? Well, because _she _was the one who liked him, and she did not want any other girl to hone in, was the obvious answer. But she also found that she cared not only for her own selfish thoughts, but for Satoshi's as well. He would feel awkward and put on the spot and the situation did not seem very fair.

She had felt obligated to warn him because…

"Because we're friends," she said truthfully, her face betraying her surprise at her own words. She grimaced at the naivety of her statement. "Eh…that sounded stupid."

But Satoshi actually smiled at her and shook his head. "Not really," he replied, and then turned around and walked off after the girl.

--------------------

Daisuke and Towa walked languidly through the labyrinthine halls of the downtown art museum, upholding the façade as a couple of friends enjoying the displays on a lazy afternoon while secretly trying to discuss the mission that they had been sent on.

"So how did my mom find this journal?" Dai asked, shortening his strides because Towa as so small. "If it's a Hikari secret heirloom, how did it end up in a such a public place?"

"That's the thing," the Guide started. "It's not exactly public. It's held in the basement, where the rare artworks are stored. It's an exhibit that's only open from 11:00 am to 6:30 pm, and there is high security surrounding the area that isn't present on these upper levels. And what's more, it's mixed in with other ancient books in a glass case, so it'll be hard to pick out." She smiled sweetly as they passed a young couple. "Not to mention that all these people will be hard to slip past once we do have the journal. We can't risk having Dark-san seen by so many; he'd almost definitely attract attention."

Daisuke frowned and glanced out the nearest window. "He says that it's not his fault he's so popular," he said offhandedly, straying away from Towa's side and towards the window. The Guide looked confused.

"What?"

"Dark."

"Dark?"

"Dark," he repeated. "He says it's not his fault." He waved Towa to his side and pointed out the window. "See there, Towa?" He was indicating a single story brick wing of the museum, three floors down from where they were and with smoked-glass windows lining the walls. It didn't look like any of the exhibit wings. "That's probably where the offices are located and, if I'm right, where the museum curator's office is as well."

Towa shrugged, not understanding. "So?"

"So, if the journal is kept in one of the display cases in the basement, that means it is considered a rare and priceless artwork. Those pieces are given extra care, hence the enhanced security. That also means that the pieces are brought out of their cases daily to be cleaned and cared for, which is why the exhibit has such a short time frame. Ancient books, especially. The paper contained within should be centuries old, so it might be paper made from some parchment type and written in Sumi or Indian Ink, which tends to bleed a little more than others and has a darker hue if it's not diluted. Those kind of materials need constant vigilance on them as time goes by or some could smudge the writing. It's fragile, and fragile means it has the curators full attention." He half-grinned to himself, still staring at the building. "That's when we'll steal it, when it's on its way to the curator." He nodded to himself, slightly proud of his plan. When he heard no response from Towa he turned to her, a little hurt that she hadn't at least said something. "Towa…?"

The Eternal Guide was staring up at him with glistening eyes, her hands clasped under her chin and her face cracked into a dreamy smile. "Oh, Daisuke," she sighed, heavily. "You really are a Phantom Thief, aren't you?"

-----------------------

The girl was quick, and Satoshi had to at least give her credit for that. When most girls confessed to him they would drag the conversation on and on with idle talk, postponing the moment of truth that he knew was coming. It was tedious and boring and only made the situation more uncomfortable. But this girl had spoken up only minutes after they had entered the classroom.

"I love you, sempai."

He was on the other side of the room, near the window, ready to hoist up the monstrous wings. But he stopped, his back feeling strangely exposed now. He straightened up and turned around to see the girl standing in the doorjamb, her hands clasped under her chin nervously.

"Pardon me?" he asked quietly. What else was he supposed to say? "And you shouldn't call me sem--…"

She took a few steps closer, a nervous smile on her face. "I love you, Hiwatari-sempai," she repeated, eyes wide and waiting. "Ever since the first time you spoke to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have?"

She nodded. "Yes. It was raining, and I was standing outside after school waiting for my ride. I didn't have an umbrella with me, so I was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. And then you showed up, and you held your umbrella over my head and told me it would be raining for the rest of the week, at the least." Her eyes turned dreamy. "It was so sweet."

Satoshi stared at her, racking his brain for the memory. Had he really done such a thing? When did he ever find time? He tried to recall a rainy afternoon when he'd seen a girl standing by herself in the downpour. He did remember the spontaneous rainy day in fall, when a lot of his classmates had not thought to bring an umbrella…

He inwardly slapped himself. He _did _remember the event of which she spoke of, but it had been _Daisuke_ who had spotted the helpless girl. Satoshi had been standing in the courtyard with Daisuke because he, too, didn't have an umbrella, when he pointed out the girl. It was at his suggestion that Satoshi went over and momentarily relieved her of the rain.

He was about to explain this to her but she cut him off.

"I know this is very sudden and that I have no right to expect anything from someone like you, but I want you to think about this before you give me an answer. I know you, sempai. I know you like the other girls don't know you. I know that you don't like to listen to the professors' lecture during class, so you always read novels and memoirs at your desk. I know you don't like to play sports, but you're good at all of them, especially swimming. I know that you work at a part-time job in town, and that's why you're usually tired during class. And I know that everyday you eat lunch by yourself on the roof, but lately you've been eating with Niwa-san." She smiled at him. "I know everything about you."

_Do you really, _he thought to himself. _Do you really know anything about me? All you know are the things that you, and everyone else, see. Do you know that I am harboring a dangerous secret inside of me? Do you know that when I go home I enter an empty apartment every night? Do you know that I love the rain and not the sunshine? That winter is my favorite season? That my favorite color isn't blue? That I only see my father at city events? That I'm Chief Commander of Police? That I like to paint but not draw?_

_No_, he thought solemnly. _You don't know any of that, because you don't know me at all._

"Sempai, I love you," she repeated.

Satoshi stared down at her, face level and unfeeling as he had always worn it. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time for girls," he answered systematically. It had become a regular mantra for him.

The expected awkward silence followed. The girl stared at him and he stared at the floor. He didn't like this. He had never liked this part.

"That's not true," she suddenly whispered. Satoshi looked up.

"What?"

"That's not true," she repeated, her brow furrowed in dismay. "You say you don't have time for girls, but that's a lie. I always see you with Risa Harada."

He felt his neck grow hot and his hands turn cold. His heart started pounding nervously and, within him, Krad's humor was stirring.

_Isn't that a lovely twist of events?_ He sounded pleased with the situation. _Even this scrawny, sorry excuse of a human can see the truth._

_Shut up, Krad,_ Satoshi thought angrily.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about--…"

"Yes you do!" She dropped her hands to her sides and curled them into fists. "A bunch of us saw you two walking to school together a few days ago and I've seen you talk to her more than anyone else. You even asked to speak with her privately before. You do have time for girls, sempai, you just never want to admit--…." Her eyes suddenly grew wide and her jaw dropped as she stared at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She pointed at him while her other hand flew to her chest.

"That's the reason, isn't it?" she said. "That's why you've always told those other girls no. It's not because you don't have time for us…it'd because you like Harada."

_Scrawny, but clever._

_Enough, Krad!_

"That's not true," he tried to say, although he found his throat was dry. "I don't--,"

"Yes, you do," she whispered, a dramatic sadness in her voice. "You do."

_You do. _

"This is a futile argument," he said, trying not to pay attention to his inner demon. "I don't know what you are talking about. I have too much to deal with at the moment and Harada-san is no one special to me."

"Why her?" she demanded, jealousy and anger causing her voice to rise and her head to ignore him. "Why did you have to pick her?"

Satoshi shook his head, trying to calm her down. "I didn't pick her. I didn't pick anyone."

_Didn't you?_

"Yes, you did! But she's not even---she never even—she doesn't even like you!"

_So harsh,_ Krad said. _But true._

Satoshi tried to suppress a growl. _Shut up!_

"I don't like Harada-san. If anything, we're just…friends."

_Are you really?_

"Are you really?" she demanded. Satoshi pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, trying to decipher the difference between the voices. "Is she really just your friend?"

"What I do and to whom I relate with is of no concern to you. I'm sorry for who I am. I know it must have taken quite a lot of courage to come to me and say what you did, but I have to answer you honestly. I just don't have the time for things like this."

Now the girl was crying, and Satoshi was getting a headache. Krad was having an absolute field day. _These are precious moments, tamer. But I wonder, what would The Mystic say if she saw you now? She'd be…awful…jealous…_

Satoshi was caught by surprise. The last words Krad had spoken sounded different. He had been ecstatic the entire ordeal, spilling out comments without hesitation, egging Satoshi on until his mental hold had weakened and he would be able to transform: he had used the tactic often. But his last comment, about The Mystic's Dream…he had started it as if it were just a another jeer, but he seemed to have realized what he was saying and his voice had darkened considerably when he finished.

Whatever it was he had implied, it was not something good.

_What do you mean,_ Satoshi demanded. _What are you talking about?_ But Krad had gone instantly silent.

"You couldn't love me at all?" the girl was begging, tears streaming down her face. "You couldn't even like me?"

He sighed, his already weak body being drained from the conversation. "I just don't like anyone right now," he said in a low voice. The girl was indignant.

"You're a liar, sempai! Just admit it!"

"I'm not lying," he grumbled. "And don't call me that." She stamped her foot, her hands curled into tiny fists.

"Yes you are!" She ran to him and he leaned away in reaction. She grabbed his shirt collar and stared up into his face. She was so small, more than a head shorter, and even standing on her toes barely made her tall enough to regard easily. "I've loved you for so long, sempai. Ever since I first met you! Doesn't that matter to you? Don't you care?"

_Do you? _He wanted to ask. _Because if you did, then you'd realize that this is selfish. That you did not consider my feelings when you planned this. That this is a situation born out of thoughts for you and not me._

He closed his eyes and pushed away the thoughts. They were cruel and insensitive, and this girl was already on the brink of hysteria.

He stole a breath and leaned way, looking the girl straight in the eye, as was respectable. "I'm sorry, but I won't be anything to you because I _can't_ be anything to you. I…I just don't have time for girls."

And that was the last straw. She released his collar and banged her hands against his chest, her hand lingering a tad longer than what was normal. "Liar!" She gave him one last, longing look before turning on her heel and dashing from the room. Satoshi watched her go, feeling incredibly responsible and guilty for her sadness, but also relieved that this was finally over.

But then…

She had stopped in the doorway, standing a little ways in the hall, and was looking at someone hidden on the other side of the wall. The mad look in her eyes mixed with the tears he had caused created a face of malice, and whoever it was on the receiving end was getting the full blast of it.

"You. I hate you."

They were strong words. Words that Satoshi was secretly glad were not directed at him. Then the girl moved out of view and her voice became muffled and hard to understand. He breathed slowly and leaned against the window, staring at the floor.

He never liked confessions.

Never.

--------------------------

Risa stomped her way through the halls, angry, frustrated and finding that she was really starting to dislike Takeshi Saehara with a newfound passion. Satoshi and his fan girl had been gone for near fifteen minutes and the ever-powerful director wanted Dark's wings so he could test them on the fly wires. And whom had he chosen to go retrieve the missing couple?

Three guesses who.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, throwing her hair back into a ponytail hastily as she continued on. "It's as if some unknown being is forcing us together time and time again for their own sick enjoyment. Like a stupid romance story!" She turned the corner that would lead to her home classroom and immediately heard voices arguing from up ahead. She inched further down the hall and listened carefully. It wasn't voices, but one voice; a girl's. And she sounded close to tears.

"You're a liar, sempai! Just admit it!"

There was a vague mumbling that Risa couldn't make out. Probably Satoshi's calm reply. She had made it to the doorway but waited just outside, wanting to listen in without being seen. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but her curiosity was too much. It was what any other fourteen-year-old girl would do.

"Yes, you are!" There was a short pause and, when the girl spoke next, her voice came out in a different volume, as if she had moved. "I've loved you for so long, sempai. Ever since I first met you! Doesn't that matter to you? Don't you care?"

"I'm sorry," Risa heard Satoshi answer. His voice was unnaturally low. "But I won't be anything to you because I _can't_ be anything to you. I…I just don't have time for girls."

There was the sound of a fist banging against cloth and muscle. "Liar!" And then stomping footsteps could be heard and the girl came bursting out of the classroom, pausing just outside the doorway to find her bearings and figure out which way to go. Her head whipped to the right and she spotted Risa, standing in complete shock, her body pressed against the hall wall.

The girl glared at her with pure vehemence, her eyes already red from crying. "You," she spat, as if Risa's presence were a parasite in her world. "I hate you."

Risa was caught completely off guard by the comment and simply stared at the girl, unable to speak. She, in turn, flicked her gaze to the jacket she was wearing, staring at it with pure disgust and anger. "And you're so stupid, Harada-san," she snapped. "Would someone like the Phantom Thief Dark ever wear something so white?!"

And with that, the girl ran past her and down the hall, her legs pounding as she tried to escape her humiliation and rejection. Risa watched her go, her fingers tucked beneath the sleeves.

"I know it's not Dark's," she whispered in reply to the empty hallway. "I know."

------------------------

"Mom, we're home!" Daisuke flung his jacket on the coat hook near the door and quickly pulled off his shoes. He hurried down the hall and into the living room where is dad and grandfather were lounging together on the couch. They looked up as he entered and both beamed.

"Daisuke, you're home."

"Yeah." He plopped down in the armchair across from them, tossing his bag on the floor. "I figured I'd just come home instead of heading back to school. I only have a few hours left anyway." He looked around. "Where's mom?"

Kosuke jerked his head to the door leading to the basement. "With the art, as usual. Where's Towa?"

"Right here."

The meager reply had come from the doorway where Towa stood holding onto the frame, her eyes downcast and her demeanor, which had been happy and carefree moments before, blackened. Her eyes flicked to the clothed artwork at the corner of the room, her look wary.

"Are you all right?" Dai asked. "You were fine earlier today."

"It's…that." She pointed a lazy finger at The Mystic. The three males turned around to look. "Can't you feel it? It's so strong…"

Daisuke frowned. He knew Dark could feel it too. "What is it?" he asked, and both the Eternal Guide and Dark answered as one.

"Her—

_--Desire."_

-----------------------------

Risa peered around the edge of the door, holding fast onto the frame, her palms hidden deep within the white sleeves. She saw Satoshi half sitting on the windowpane, his head bowed low as if he were asleep. But she couldn't blame him for his exhaustion.

She knocked lightly on the wall. "Hiwatari?"

He moved his head languidly, but it was his eyes that darted upward to immediately fix her with their absolute blue, sending a nervous shiver up her spine. He didn't look surprised so much as he looked interrupted. Risa waved feebly, but remained outside of the room.

"Er—Saehara-san sent me," she explained, pointing over her shoulder as if he were standing right there. "He said the wings were taking too long."

He sat up straighter. "We had certain obstacles to take care of," he answered bitterly, bending to hoist the wings into his arms. Their wingspan was at least twice the length of his arm and rather weighty, but Satoshi simply sat them on one shoulder as if they were nothing more than a light bag. "I'm sorry we took so long."

"No, don't be sorry," she assured him. She twiddled her fingers and stared at the ground. "I didn't mean to, but I overheard the last bit of your…conversation. I can understand the delay."

"Could you really understand?" he suddenly asked her. Risa looked up to meet his eyes and saw that he had pursed him lips and was staring at her in mild surprise. "I—I didn't mean to snap at you," he said. But Risa shook her head.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered, and then fell silent. There was an odd moment of quiet between them, both of them avoiding the other's gaze. Risa wanted it to end, wanted one of them to speak and break the silence, but then she also did not want to ruin the moment. As awkward as the quiet was…it was oddly comforting.

"Er--do you need any help?" Risa tried to offer, stepping inside. He stared at her for a while, glanced at the wings, and then back at her tiny frame before she finally cracked a smile. "You're right. Never mind." She cleared the way for him to pass and he strode out of the room, actually pausing in the hallway for her to catch up.

Side by side they walked down the hall: cool, quiet Satoshi Hiwatari and pretty little Risa Harada, probably the oddest couple Azumano Middle School had the pleasure of hosting.

Risa smiled at the thought, glancing up at him as they pressed onward. Was it possible to like someone so much, to get butterflies in your stomach whenever you thought of them or mentioned their name, but then, in their presence, be so comfortably at ease? Granted she had been nervous when they had been performing the scene together, but now, just walking, he seemed like a very close friend whose silence she actually cherished.

"I'm sorry, Harada-san," he said again, his eyes still straight ahead. She glanced at him, confused.

"For what?" she asked.

"For earlier. For what she said to you."

Risa was surprised. He had no reason to be sorry. "You don't have to apologize," she told him. "It wasn't you're fault. I think I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." She itched all over to ask him how the confession had been, but she knew it would be prying. It was a personal matter between two other people, and she had already done enough by eavesdropping during the last half of the conversation.

All the same, Satoshi seemed disturbed about something. He seemed so much more stiff.

---------------------

Satoshi Hiwatari was haunted by two things: the first was what Krad had said in the classroom. His mentioning of the Mystic had opened a whole new door of possibilities, and even more mysteries. Things, he knew, he wanted to discuss with Daisuke along with the elusive journal. The second was Risa Harada.

There was no doubt about the fact that she had been much friendlier to him all day. She spoke kindly and regarded him with either silence or sweet words where before she had been snappy. He figured it had to do with the weekend; disregarding the fact that she, thankfully, could not recall anything having to do with the Mystic or his magic, she did remember the incident at the beach, and that was an ordeal that could definitely muster kinder feelings between them.

But, apart from all that, Satoshi found that he _liked_ having her be more friendly. Not only that, but he had liked that she considered him a friend.

That puzzled him the most.

He didn't have friends.

He had Niwa, but that could hardly count. They were, at the same time, mortal enemies…

But to have a friend…

_Or was it even that?_

He thought about what the girl had said to him in the classroom. That he liked Risa. That she was the reason why he turned down so many of the fan girls. But that was ridiculous. He had rejected them months before anyone even knew Risa and he had ever spoken to each other. He rejected them because they were superficial.

_But I don't want her to be,_ he instantly thought, ashamed at his own daring and selfishness. _I don't want her to be superficial._

"Hiwatari?" Risa began, fiddling with her sleeves.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

He wanted to say that she already did, but he held his tongue. "Of course," he replied solemnly.

She hesitated as they turned the corner. "Were you there the night at the museum when Riku and I followed Dark to get Niwa's painting back?"

Were he not so strictly disciplined by his father at a young age, Satoshi was certain he would have tripped over his feet and blabbered words right off the bat, causing the situation to become awkward and strange. But he kept his face blank and the wings on his shoulders, walking steadily and swallowing hard. The question had come from nowhere.

"I'm not quite sure I know what you're talking about," he replied, giving his best diplomatic answer and the tone to go with it. But Risa was not amused.

"I could have sworn you were there. I thought I saw you after Riku fell, before I passed out." She stared into his face but he refused to look her in the eye. Whoever said that Risa Harada was a stupid, oblivious girl was probably a stupid, oblivious person themselves. She tended to disregard certain key factors in her environment, but when she wanted to see something she made sure to see it. On a night when she'd be chasing after Dark she'd be sure to remember every single little thing that happened that night.

Satoshi just shrugged.

"What were you doing there?" she pressed, her politeness turning into a full interrogation. Satoshi stared ahead, seeing the door that led to the theatre. They were almost there. "I know Saehara-san goes to the crime scenes to tag along behind his dad, but what about you? Is you're father in the police force as well?"

"Yes," Satoshi answered. _And no_, he wanted to add. His father _owned_ the police force.

They had reached the double doors and Risa gratefully pushed them open for him. "Then is that why you were at--,"

"—the museum where Dark is going to strike next!"

The shouted statement surprised them both, and Risa nearly slammed the door into Satoshi, whose attention had immediately been distracted by the familiar vibration in his pocket. "Sorry," she apologized hastily, but he shook his head, already sidetracked.

"No need."

"Harada, Harada! Did you hear?" Ritsuko came bounding up to her, excitement making her cheeks flush and her hair bounce about. She grabbed onto her jacket and tugged, smiling. Risa smiled back, albeit cluelessly. Satoshi eyed them both as he gently set the wings on the ground and slyly reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out only the tiniest bit and flipping the screen open. There was a text message waiting for him.

From Detective Saehara.

"Know what?" Risa asked. Ritsuko squealed.

"About Dark!" She jumped up and down again while Risa, if Satoshi's ears were working right, forced out a laugh.

He pressed a button on his phone and the message he knew was waiting lit up the tiny screen:

_Dark left a calling card. He gave us the time and place, but not the object. The theft goes down at 8:30pm at the downtown art museum. I await your orders._

_-Det. Saehara._

---------------------------

Risa glanced at Satoshi while Ritsuko called over more of their friends to moon over Dark. And she couldn't blame her; she didn't know that Risa Harada, Dark's number one fan, wasn't number one anymore.

Satoshi was standing a little ways away, immersed with his cell phone again. He was typing something with one hand and pulling out a pen and pad of paper from his back pocket with the other. Risa watched him and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had desperately wanted to finish their conversation; it had been going down a direction that had been plaguing her all weekend, and she decided she was ready for the truth.

If the jacket was Satoshi's then that would mean Satoshi was at the museum. And if Satoshi was at the museum and had given her the jacket, then that meant Satoshi had been the one to catch her when she fell. But how could he catch her when she had fallen off of the sixth floor?

Someone grabbed her arm and started saying something into her ear, but she wasn't paying attention. Satoshi had left the room, his cell phone held to his ear as he stared at the ground, his face set in concentration. As polite as she could Risa slipped from her circle of friends and followed him outside.

There were so many mysteries swirling around Satoshi Hiwatari.

And she wanted to know all of them.

--------------------

"Detective Saehara, give me an exact update."

"What you see is what you get, Commander. Dark didn't breathe a word about what it was that he'd be stealing, he just gave us the place and time. I don't know what's going on, and the museum is pretty big. We don't have the men to cover the entire place."

"Yes, we do."

"We do?"

"Three more squads, if my calculations are correct."

"Three more?! Where in the world did we acquire seventy-five more men?"

"I have my sources. Where did he leave the card?"

"The card? Well, usually he leaves it at the artwork, but this time he left it at the entrance, wedged underneath the front doors."

"Dark isn't unconventional with his warnings, only his executions. Something's not right."

"Sir?"

"Prepare two squads. Station one at the entrance and one on the rooftop. Leave the three additional for me to distribute and command personally. I want a surveillance van set up and tapped into the security cameras at the back of the building. Raise the police lines and keep the press twenty-five meters from the perimeter of the museum. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"We get into position at a quarter to eight."

"Yes, sir."

---------------------

Risa watched from around the corner as Satoshi flipped his cell phone closed, staring at the floor.

"I wonder…what are you up to now, Dark?" he asked quietly, his face set into a pondering mask. He tucked his cell phone into his pocket and glanced over his shoulder, towards the theatre doors. Risa ducked away out of sight and waited patiently, her heartbeat pounding greatly against her chest. She counted to twenty and then chanced a peek around the corner again. Satoshi was already halfway down the hall, his silent footsteps betraying nothing of his departure. Risa had the strong urge to follow him, but the blood rushing to her head and the nerves set loose into her veins made it hard for her to breathe as it was.

She leaned against the wall instead, her mind reeling.

_Satoshi was in close contact with the Azumano Police?!_

The conversation she had just listened in on had been one-sided and missing important details, but she had certainly heard him speak Takeshi father, and he was going after Dark tonight! And not only that, but he had known what he was talking about; a trained official. Everyone knew Hiwatari was brilliant, but to command a legion of police officers? That couldn't possible be right! For Satoshi Hiwatari to be--…

_Who was Satoshi Hiwatari?_

Raise looked down the hallway again but saw that he was already gone, probably leaving school early to prepare for that night.

She thought a moment…

…and glanced toward the theatre…

…and then made her decision.

She hurried on down the hallway as well, zipping up the jacket as she went, because the wind had picked up outside.

Risa had to leave early too then, if she were going to the museum that night as well.

--------------------

"It's done," Emiko announced as she entered the living room. Daisuke and his father looked up from the early dinner they were having, and Daiki peeked his eyes over the top of his newspaper. Towa was no where in sight, having escaped to the backyard on the explanation that she couldn't stand being in the same room as the dreaded statue.

"Did the Detective find it?" Kosuke asked. Emiko nodded and tossed her hat and sunglasses on the sofa, depositing her bag beside them as she beamed at her husband and son.

"And it was done perfectly. They're all confused because I placed the calling card in the entrance instead of with an artwork. They'll be so concentrated on defending every floor of the main museum that the curator's wing will be almost completely exposed," she explained, smiling. But Daisuke was not happy.

"Why did we even have to send a card? This journal is supposed to be a secret and we're not even trying to publicize it. Couldn't Dark and I just have stolen it without warning anyone?"

Emiko gasped, her eyes wide and her face appalled. "Daisuke! How dare you! What kind of Niwa would I be if I did Dark the injustice of shirking on his fame? Phantom Thief Dark is a star to the people, and his stealing is the entertainment! To have him steal with no audience would be blasphemy. And what kind of mother would be if I did not want to flaunt my little boy?" she added, walking over to him with starry eyes as she hugged him tightly. Daisuke sputtered, her embrace too tight and making him drop his chopsticks.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry!"

She let him go and he gasped as Kosuke and Daiki laughed. Dai rubbed his neck and grinned as his mother sauntered about the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. He thought a moment and then pushed his food away.

"Mom."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You never told me how you found out about the journal in the first place? When I came home today we just talked about the plan and then you left. And we haven't even mentioned the horn being gone either."

Emiko set the coffeepot down and reached for the sugar. "The journal, Dai," she began, dropping two sugar cubes into her cup, "was almost by accident while I was looking on information for the statue. The horn, however, is a mystery to all of us." She turned around and leaned against the counter, steaming mug in hand. "One moment it was here and then the next it had vanished." She took a sip. "But that's the least of our worries right now."

"Your mother told us she was going to the market," Kosuke joined in, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "But she was really on a massive search for answers." He cocked an eyebrow at his wife and she shrugged, smiling.

"I'm quicker on my own, is all." She turned back to Daisuke. "I went to the archives--,"

"—you mean broke into the archives," Daiki injected.

"Yes, dad, I broke into the archives and leafed through the files of Hikari based artworks. Nothing even hinted to the Mystic's Dream or a horn called **Silence**. I started to doubt that we'd find any history to the pieces, but then I thought that perhaps the Hikaris had hidden the history just as they had hidden clues to the artwork in other places. So instead of searching for words relating specifically to the Mystic, I started looking for words and files that were connected to the fairy tale that first tipped me off about the artwork.

"The fairy tale," Daisuke repeated, thinking hard. His mother nodded.

"Yes. The fairy tale…_Pygmalion_."

-----------------------

Satoshi slammed his door closed and tossed his keys on the side table, throwing his school bag and books spontaneously on the floor and heading for the kitchen, already feeling tired. He had left school early to head towards the downtown museum and set up his own personal traps and equipment before he'd meet with the Detective and his squadrons later that night. Now, so late in the afternoon, he had finally returned home to steal a quick rest, change out of his uniform, and then go back down to the museum to officially prepare for the festivities.

He checked his watch. It was ten past six. He had some time to rest.

Satoshi poured himself a cold glass of water and then swaggered into his living room, thumping down on the sofa and leaned his head back. So tired, and it was still early. The worst of the night was still to come.

He sat up straighter and took a long pull of his glass, his eyes glancing to the coffee table where the tome Daisuke had given him sat untouched all weekend. He hadn't had a chance to look at it yet, and had frankly forgotten it was there.

Setting his glass down, Satoshi pulled the book into his lap and stared at the cover.

Gold emboss, leather bound and yarn sewing into the pages. The book was old, and genuine.

Carefully, he flipped back the cover and leafed gently through the pages, noting the handwritten calligraphy and penmanship. He figured he'd probably siphon through the entire thing but a small paper stuck out a little farther than the rest. Satoshi separated the pages that were marked and found a small paper with a note written to him in Daisuke's hand:

_This is the story that my mom found the Mystic's Dream in. I'm not sure what it is or how it relates to it, but that's what she told me. I hope you find what you're looking for!_

_-D.N._

Satoshi moved aside the note and stared down at the title, his brows furrowing as he read.

"Pygmalion," he said out loud. He stared at it a moment. "This isn't even a fairy tale," he said to no one. "It's a Greek myth." He thumbed through the story briefly, flipping through the pages and scanning the storyline. There was nothing truly special on the surface of it; it was the same old tale of how a sculptor created the most beautiful woman in the world and fell in love with it. He had studied its meaning and creation during his college courses.

Not once was the Mystic's Dream mentioned.

He closed the book and set it down on the table again.

------------------------

"That's not even a fairy tale," Daisuke answered. "Isn't that supposed to be Greek myth or something?"

"Yes." Emiko jumped nimbly onto the kitchen counter, her mug balanced easily in her hand. "Precisely."

Dai stared at her in confusion as his father gathered together their empty dishes. "Wait—huh?"

His mom smiled her ever mischievous smile; the smile that said she knew something that others didn't and the information pleased her. "You'd be surprised, Dai, but most people don't know 'Pygmalion' is a Greek myth and not a fairy tale, let alone what the story is even about. That's why it is so ingenious the way the Hikaris hid their information. Placing a myth amongst many well-known, novelty fairy tales was the most blatant way they could speak about the Mystic. The ugly duckling amongst the swans."

"The first clue," Kosuke clarified, smiling at the raised eyebrow on Dai's face. "Something that is obviously out of place." He passed by his wife and placed the dishes in the sink, nodding to her. "Go ahead."

"So then I had the story," Emiko continued, "but I still didn't know what I was looking for. I had already read 'Pygmalion' so I knew what it was about. There was nothing remotely interesting and new and no mention of artworks other than that of the statue that Pygmalion creates, which does not exist because I checked." She took a sip from her mug. "So I started comparing. I compared our specific book's version of the story as opposed to others, and I found some whose versions were completely different, and others where the wording was exactly the same, as all ancient lore is prone to. But, during my research, I discovered one very important detail about our book."

"What?" Daisuke asked.

His mother smiled. "Spelling errors."

A pregnant pause followed. "Spelling errors?" Daisuke repeated slowly and Emiko nodded. Deep within him Dark was laughing so loud that it hurt his ears.

"Spelling errors, and not consistent ones. They weren't spontaneous errors, but carefully placed ones; ones that still created a word but an irrelevant one."

Kosuke looked up from his dish washing. "An ancient code. The misplaced letter helps find the key. If a note said 'The akt was colled irade', you'd know that those words were wrong. The 'k' would be a 'c', the 'o' would be an 'a' and the 'd' would be a 't'. The resulting codeword, then, is 'cat'."

"Thank you, dear," Emiko agreed, then turned back to Daisuke. "Which is how I broke the code and came up with two words: 'Mystic Dream'. From there all I had to do was poke around and eventually I found the sculpture that accompanied the name." She grinned to herself, proud with her deductive methods. And Dai had to admit, his mom was pretty impressive.

"So that's how you found the journal?" he asked.

"Yes. The same code was used in their old files." She downed the last of her coffee and handed her cup to her husband, giving him a kiss on his cheek for his hard work. Daisuke was staring at the floor, thinking.

"But why 'Pygmalion', mom? Why did the Hikaris use that story?"

Emiko shrugged. "That is the one mystery I do not know," she admitted. "A mystery, I'm afraid, that only the Hikaris can solve." She glanced down at her watch. "Oh no! Look at the time! We've only a few hours left and I haven't picked out an outfit for Dark to where!" She jumped down from the counter and dashed out of the room, scolding herself for her negligence of the Phantom Thief. Dai turned over to his father.

"Do you think the journal will tell us anything about the sculpture?"

Kosuke shrugged. "That I don't know, son. What I do know is that the book contains potent spells and incantations in its front half; the half where we will find a way to properly seal the artwork. Apart from that, we're still lost."

"We'll always be lost," came a low mumbled. Both father and son glanced up to where Towa was hovering in the door to the hallway. She had refused to come into the same room as the statue and had been roaming the entire house aimlessly to avoid it. "We've been lost since the day she was created and we'll be lost till the day she dies. Ever since the beginning we have feared her, and we will go on fearing her for reasons unknown. She is a curse to them all," Towa said, flicking her gaze over to the shrouded statue.

"A curse to who?" Dai prodded. She stared at him and ambled away from the door.

"A curse to the Hikari."

---------------------

Satoshi stood in the surveillance truck with Detective Saehara and three other policemen trained in audio and visual equipment. They tapped and fiddled with dials and keys as screen upon screen displayed every entrance and every room of the downtown museum. Outside two large teams of officers stood at every door, window and ventilation shaft. Police lines encompassed the entire building and separated the officials from the boisterous crowd of news reporters and fans lining the street.

It was 8:12 pm.

"Everything is set, Commander. We've got everything under control."

"Everything?" Satoshi confirmed, stripping off his jacket and tossing it in the corner. Saehara watched him with a furrowed brow but did not question his actions.

"Er—yes, sir. These are the best media technicians in the force," he said proudly, slapping one of the men on the back. The man winced but kept his peace. Satoshi only nodded.

"Good. So that means that if everything goes horribly wrong tonight, you're men will keep their heads and not make things worse?" The door to the truck suddenly opened and a man stepped in, offering a folded police uniform to Satoshi with a bow. Saehara watched as the Commander took it and the man left.

"Um…what? Oh! Uh—yes, sir."

"Excellent." With quiet ease he slipped the navy blue trousers over his own and shrugged on the uniform overcoat, buttoning the brass fasteners with practiced hands. The Detective watched in silence as Commander Hiwatari suited up in a typical officer's uniform.

"Er—sir? What are you doing?"

"I'm going out to the field," he answered, matter-of-factly, removing his glasses and securing the hat on his head.

"Can you see without your glasses?"

"I don't really need them."

"Why are you going on the field dressed like an officer?" Saehara asked, slightly confused. It was strange, how a simple uniform could make this fourteen-year-old boy looked years older. Satoshi just adjusted his cuffs and pushed the door open with his foot, taking a step out.

"I have a radio with me. Contact me only if you need to," he said, and left the truck.

-------------------------

Risa Harada pushed her way through the crowd, nudging onlookers and news reporters aside. Most of their heads were tilted upward, searching the skies for the first glimpse of Dark, but Risa had her sight set on the police tape, where she could ask one of the officers if they knew a man by Hiwatari. If Satoshi's father was there then she'd find him with his father.

"Harada-san!"

Risa looked up and saw Takeshi running towards her, his camera held tightly in his hand. She waved politely and waited for him, attempting a smile as he approached. "Hi, Saehara-kun. Are you here with your dad?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah; he's in the surveillance truck in the back, and he never lets me go there. I'm out here with the first squad, guarding the entrances." He cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively and elbowed her gently in the side. "Are you here for your Phantom Thief?" He winked at her and she tried not to groan.

"Actually, no. I was…um…actually here for someone--,"

"Wait a minute," Takeshi interrupted staring down at her attire. "You're not dressed like you're here for Dark."

It was true. Usually, when Risa would seek out the Thief, she would dress up in her cutest outfit and parade around the house fixing her hair and make-up, trying to make herself as beautiful as possible. But tonight was not for Dark, and she had actually dressed in sensible clothes. She wore jean shorts that were easy to move in and one of Riku's plain grey shirts, her hair thrown up in a ponytail and Hiwatari's white jacket to finish the look. She had even borrowed Riku's running shoes.

"You look…you look…so plain," he said. She rolled her eyes and sat into one hip.

"Thank you, Saehara-kun. You're such a lady charmer." She rolled her eyes and glanced around the crowd. "Saehara, could you help me?" she asked. Her classmate shrugged and leaned close to listen better.

"I'll help, if I can. Depends though, if you want to see Dark then we'll have to probably go around back because the front here is way too crowded--,"

"I don't want to see Dark."

Takeshi stopped mid-sentence, staring at her as if she'd just grown two heads. "What?!" he exclaimed. Risa knocked him in the shoulder to shut him up. "Harada-san, are you joking with me? You—_you_—don't want to see the Phantom Thief Dark? You? You?!"

"Yes, me," she snapped, her hands curling into fists. Her patience was waning thin and she wanted to find Hiwatari's dad before Dark came and chaos ensued. "Saehara-kun listen, you're father is the Detective on Dark's case, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"And since he's the head of the investigation here, I was wondering--,"

"Whoa, hold on," Takeshi said, raising a hand to interrupt her. "He's not the head of investigation."

Risa cocked her head to the side. "He's not?"

"No. He's only second in command; the lap dog to the guy who runs the show." He shrugged and fiddled with his camera. "I used to think he was the one in charge, but he's not. The other officers say that the Chief Commander of Police is a genius straight out of college, and that's he's the son of the man who owns the police force. I, personally, don't see what's so great about him. I mean, he hasn't caught Dark, has he?"

Risa was listening to him avidly, the information somewhat intriguing. "Well, er, could you take me to the Commander then?" she tried. Saehara glared at her.

"Not even if I wanted to," he answered monotonously. "I don't have that kind of access around here, Harada-san." He lowered his voice. "I'm not even supposed to be here; Dad's orders." He rolled his eyes, as if the fact that he was breaking the rules was a mere annoyance. But Risa was getting desperate; time was running out and Dark would be appearing soon.

"Saehara, please. I can't explain right now, but I need to find the Commander now!"

Takeshi sighed and thought a moment, concocting a plan in his head. Risa knew that it wasn't so much him wanting to help her as it was him wanting to do something mischievous.

He tapped his chin, his face screwed up in concentration. "There was a rumor I heard a moment ago from the first squad that the Commander isn't waiting on the sidelines tonight," he suddenly said. "They're saying that he's disguised himself as one of the policemen and he's hidden within the ranks. No one knows why, but it's out of character. He's more of a general-type than a foot soldier, or so I hear." He grinned sideways at Risa. "He shouldn't be so hard to pick out, I'm guessing. The men here are nearly thirty or older, so the Commander has got to stick out as the youngest of the group. Plus he'll be trained differently, so we have to look for someone who's more disciplined and polished than the rest. Easy clues to look for."

Risa raised her eyebrows, smiling. "Wow, I think I'm impressed," she complimented.

Takeshi only shrugged, but the satisfied look on his face was hard to miss.

"I just do what I do best."

----------------------

Daisuke stood in his living room watching the live newscast at the downtown museum as his mom fluttered about getting him prepared for the night. She had donned him in a plain black shirt and trousers only a few sizes larger, seeing as Daisuke was now only a few inches shy of Dark's height. She was helping him slip on a floor-length trench coat when Towa called to them from the front door.

"I can feel the journal, Emiko-san! It's still in its glass case, but there's less security on the lower level than at the entrances and rooftop!"

"Good, Towa. Keep track of it!" Emiko fixed her son's collar and dusted off his shoulder, smiling into his face. "You make us all proud," she told him. "Both of you." She ruffled his hair, kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. Daisuke grinned at her and ran off. "Make sure you take care of Towa," Emiko called after him, following him to the front door. "She hasn't been herself lately."

"I will," Dai promised, pulling on Dark's shoes. Towa, in bird form, had perched on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she kept close tabs on the journal. "We'll be back before you know it. Come on, Wiz!"

With a final wave to his mother, Daisuke threw open the front door and leaped out into the night, Wiz appearing as his black wings and carrying both him and Towa up into the sky. Emiko ran to the open doorway to watch them.

"I'll never get tired of that sight," she said to herself, grinning. "I'll never tire of it."

---------------------

As Daisuke Niwa ran out of the living room he left with the confidence that, with the help of Dark, he would retrieve an ancient journal that would help shed light on the Mystic's Dream and it's partner **Silence**.

He like, like everyone else, thought that the Mystic's Dream had been _contained_.

But as the tarp began to slip off the extended hand of the statue, the spirits of the other artworks in the house began to quiver and shake, feeling the desire and the passion stir within the Mystic. And as the tip of a tiny, glass finger was gently exposed the world rumbled and the sky trembled as her power grew and pulsed with anticipation. And when the smallest moonbeam slipped through a part in the curtains and fell onto the glistening finger, Towa squeaked on Daisuke's shoulder and Daisuke screamed out in surprised agony as Dark appeared, suddenly and without warning, transforming ten minutes before he said he would.

"Dark, Dark! What's wrong? Why did you transform so early?" Daisuke cried within him as Dark winced and shivered, the transformation being too sudden for even him to endure. "What happened?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, feeling suddenly cold and exposed. He glanced at Towa at his shoulder and the tiny bird looked back, her eyes wide, afraid and confused. "I don't know," he repeated.

--------------------------

Emiko was frozen in the doorway to the living room, one hand gripping onto the doorframe as she stared, bright-eyed, at the girl standing in front of her.

Somehow the electricity had gone out in the entire house and the only source of light now came from this ethereal girl, emanating from her body and making her glow in a grayish-blue light. She stood on solid ground but she didn't seem to stand at all; and though she was not moving her hair cascaded here and there and her skirts billowed about her feet. She was beautiful and despairing, and her eyes danced like clear ocean water.

She tilted her head to one side as she met Emiko's gaze, her curiosity strange in a face so blank. Emiko continued to stare, to afraid to move, even when the girl took a step forward, when mist began to pool at her feet, and when she parted her lips…and began to sing…

_"Come with me…" _she sang, her words weaving a spell of intrigue and beauty. It soothed Emiko's fear and she began to relax. "_And you'll be…in a world of pure imagination…"_

-----------------------------


	14. Yet Left In Reach of Blinding Sight

**Chapter Fourteen—Yet Left In Reach Of Blinding Sight**

'There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.'

--Jean Anouilh

'Heav'n hath no rage like love to hatred turn'd,

Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd.

(Hell hath no Fury like a Woman Scorned)'

--William Congreve, The Mourning Bride

-----------------------------------

She was angry.

Angry that they had used **Silence **on her. Angry that they had quieted her song once again. Angry because she had been so close to her Hikari.

The Mystic was angry, and they would know it.

She looked down at the woman lying on the floor at her feet. She was the mother of the boy; the mother who had found her in the yard as a statue. She was the one who collected her Hikari's artworks and sealed them away in her basement.

She knelt down next to the sleeping Niwa mother and touched a single finger to her forehead. "_You will sleep,_" she said. "_You will sleep in a deathly slumber until I am made whole again. You will sleep until I find my Hikari. You will sleep until I am rewarded with a _life" Then there was a glow and the symbol of a crescent moon shone on the Niwa mother's forehead before dulling out to a simple, blue moon.

The Mystic's Dream straightened to her feet and stepped over the woman's motionless body, making her way to the front door. She stepped out into the night and looked up at the moon. "_Give me your strength_," she whispered, and tore off a piece of cloth from the edge of her gown. The minute it separated the cloth turned back to glass, and she dropped the glass amongst the flowers in the front yard, making them bloom even bigger, their colors more vibrant and lustrous. "_Now I may always find you, dark-winged one. Now I will always know where it is you hide._" She turned towards the street and waved her hand softly through the air. Mist spilled from her splayed fingertips and swirled in the space before her, coming together to form a stairwell upwards.

She stepped onto the mist and began to sing a song bred from anger and hate and made to sound terribly beautiful:

_"Now rages my anger,_

_Sweet souls of the night,_

_My rage befalls all who would silence my song._

_I come for my Hikari,_

_For my life and my love,_

_And I shall own thee before this night is gone…'_

She looked down from her heavenly perch, staring at the cobblestone street and the tiled rooftops. Once upon a time, long ago, such a sight would have filled her with peace and calm and she would appreciate the town and its people. Now the sight filled her with sadness and regret, and she wanted it to disappear, just as she had been forced to do.

She ran her hand through her long hair and drew from it wavering strands of mist that clung to her fingers. She let the strands swirl and cascade downward, and whatever they touched began to age drastically. Stone began to crumble and fall apart. Metal rusted and cracked. Plants died. The earth dried up. Dust coated everything and cobwebs materialized from nowhere.

The effect began to spread, slowly claiming street after house after yard, aging the town just as long as the Mystic had been encased. The sight did not please her but sufficed, and she turned back towards her destination and began to walk long the air, letting her ghostly song underscore the withering city below:

_"I kill the man I love upon this day._

_Please._

_Don't look at me that way."_

_----------------------------_

Risa ducked low behind the bushes with Takeshi, parting the leaves to see the five officers standing guard at the back entrance to the museum. Takeshi took a quick snapshot of the men and then turned away, beckoning Risa to come look. She released the bush and crouched down next to him, peering over his shoulder to look at his tiny digital screen.

"I'll close up on their faces so we can see them better. I know some of the men on the force, so that should give us an advantage." He clicked a few buttons and the image of the officers lit up the screen. Saehara zoomed in on their faces, bending in closer to inspect them. "I know the two guys on the end; they work with my dad a lot. The man in the middle has to be in his forties and the one next to him has to be older than even that."

"What about him?" Risa asked, pointing to the last one in line. Her classmate grimaced.

"Look at his posture! He's not even standing right. There's no way he could be the Chief Commander of Police." He lowered his camera and pointed to his right. "We're looking for the best of the best! We'll keep on moving and examine everyone guarding the ground entrances. I doubt the Commander has made it to the roof."

Still crouching, Takeshi dashed off to his right, keeping low and out of sight. Risa followed behind him, looking at her watch. Dark was never late, and time was running out.

They had formed a system. Saehara could steal a snapshot and they both could examine it in less than a minute. It helped that he knew most of those on the squad, and for the ones he didn't know he could point out obvious faults: he was way too old, he was way too scared, he looked tired, he looked bored, he looked as if he wanted to kill someone. No one was fitting the profile.

Finally, they came back to the front of the museum where it seemed that more guards had gathered as Dark's entry time approached. Takeshi hadn't wanted to start off at the front because there wasn't enough of a crowd to use as cover, but now the museum courtyard was more than packed, and weaving their way to the front and stealing snapshots of the officers would be less conspicuous.

"Hurry," Risa urged, peering over his shoulder and squinting at the officers. The spotlights they had trained on the sky was blinding, and it washed out a lot of faces.

"Hold on! I need to darken the view screen."

"Then do it fast! You're going to slow."

"Oh, stop whining."

"Saehara!"

"Alright, alright! I'll use single shots so we can siphon through them faster." He fixed his eye to the camera, aimed the lens and began rapidly shooting. Risa hopped up and down impatiently, still trying to squint at the men's' faces. She couldn't tell if anyone seemed younger than the rest; they were all pretty much the same height.

Saehara lowered his camera. "Got it," he said, and straightened up to show her. Together they bent over the tiny screen once more as he rapidly scrolled through each individual photograph. "No. No. No. He's younger than most of what we've seen, but I've heard about him: he's just a newbie. No. No."

On and on they scrolled and Risa was getting restless. The shots were so close-up that she could see every man's features, and she began picking eyes amongst the faces. Brown eyes in an aged face, grey ones in an old one, brown eyes in a young face, blue eyes in a younger one…

_Very _blue eyes. In a _too_ young face.

Takeshi had noticed at the same time as Risa and stopped scrolling, both of them staring down in amazement.

"Is that--?" he started to say. Risa shook her head.

"I don't know. Is it possible--?"

"But is it really…"

"It looks just like…"

The both looked up at stared ahead to where the fourteen-year-old, blue-eyed officer stood only a mere twenty-odd feet in front of them, circling around the guarding officials stealthily, as if trying not to be noticed.

"Hiwatari!" The both of them called as one, amplifying their voices far above the surrounding noisy crowd. Satoshi's head whipped around and he stared at them from across the police tape, his face showing true surprise for the first time.

He stared.

Takeshi stared.

And Risa stared at Satoshi Hiwatari standing there dressed in a police uniform.

She blushed a deep, scarlet red.

She did so love a man in uniform.

--------------------------------

Satoshi felt his stomach drop through his entire body and the blood run ice cold in his veins. His mouth would have dropped open if he hadn't caught himself in time.

He thought his head was going to explode.

_Oh no_, was the only thought running through his mind.

"Hiwatari! Hiwatari!" Takeshi Saehara kept calling his name, even though Risa had gone silent at his shoulder. The boy started to wave him over dramatically, causing a very raucous scene and drawing attention to his person.

Which, to Satoshi's dismay, was the exact opposite of what he had wanted. He was supposed to be a ghost amongst his officers; his squads only knew his name and only a few of them knew what the Commander looked like, and he wanted to keep it that way. Takeshi was ruining his cover.

"Hiwatari!"

Inwardly groaning, Satoshi glanced around and jogged over to them, pulling down the brim of his hat farther to cover his face. He reached them at the edge of the police tape and leaned over menacingly, staring into both their faces.

"Shut up and come with me," he commanded, and lifted the tape for them to cross under.

"Hey, thanks a lot! I never thought the class genius would be such a good connection, eh, Harada--ow!"

Satoshi had grabbed him mid-sentence by the collar and Risa by the arm, dragging them away from the entrance and to a grove of trees somewhere towards the west wing of the museum. There was less of a crowd here and not as many guards, which allowed them some privacy. He ushered them into the trees and followed afterward, thankful for the looming shadows and greenery to hide behind.

"Geez, you don't have to be so rough!'

"Yes, I do." He stared at them both with a mixture and anger and dread. His eyes strayed longer on Risa. She was wearing his jacket again. As if he wasn't already frustrated. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Risa flinched at the harshness of his tone and he instantly felt guilty.

"We could ask you the same thing," Takeshi answered, rubbing his neck. Satoshi did not feel sorry for him.

"I'm supposed to be here. I'm _allowed _to be here."

"Then I'm allowed to be here, too. My father is the lead detective of this case, so that gives me--,"

"Your father may be the lead detective, _Saehara-san_, but he leads no men unless I command him too. As Chief Commander of Police I give the orders and privileges and I revoke any privilege you so foolishly claim to be yours." It was the largest speech he had ever given where he flourished his power, and it had been truly awkward. He could never recall ever speaking in such a way.

Risa and Takeshi just stared at him in wide-eyed surprise, (or was it horror?), as he waited out their reactions. Risa was the first one to speak.

"Y-you're the Commander of Police?" she asked in a quiet voice. He met her eyes and tried to find any sort of anger or hatred there. He was, after all, the man in charge of capturing her beloved Dark. But he could see nothing but true surprise.

He shrugged. "Yes, I am."

"For how long?" Takeshi asked.

"Since I turned fourteen last year."

"_Since you turned fourteen?_" The other boy looked incredulous. "You say it as if it's normal!"

"It is for me."

"But…but…." Saehara shook his head, confusion befuddling his mind. "But the men said that the Commander was someone fresh out of college! Top of his class…a prodigy straight from a private university--," He cut himself off and stared at a waiting Hiwatari. An uncomfortable pause followed. "_You've graduated from college?!"_

He nodded once.

"You have?" Risa asked, her voice coming out a little stronger. He nodded again. "But why are you in middle school then?"

_Because I wanted to know what it felt like,_ he thought to himself. _I wanted to know what it felt like to be fourteen._

"I have my reasons," he said out loud. He glanced down at his watch. The Thief would be coming at any minute.

"This is too much for me," Takeshi exclaimed, throwing up his hands and pacing through the trees. "And here _I_ thought I had connections with the police!"

"So you were there," Risa said to him, her head titled to one side. Satoshi met her gaze even though he didn't want to. "You were there that night when I fell from the museum terrace." He didn't say anything. "Why didn't you say so? Why did you try to keep it a secret?"

"I'm Chief Commander of Police. My position requires a certain amount of discretion, especially from my classmates. I didn't want to jeopardize my cover by getting involved with you or your sister."

Her brow furrowed and she stepped towards him, staring up into his face. "If you didn't want to get involved with us then why did you give me this jacket?" she demanded.

---------------------------

Dark cried out and gripped his head in agony, his rapid movement causing him to fall a few meters out of the air. On his shoulder Towa screeched in pain as she, too, covered her head with her wings. From within Daisuke was getting worried.

"Dark? Dark! What's wrong?"

"Don't talk, Daisuke," the Phantom Thief said. "It hurts too much." He cried out again and lost more altitude, his chest almost skimming the tops of wayward trees. An up-reaching branch caught the hem of his trench coat and down he went, tumbling through a web of canopy and leaves, Towa flying off his shoulder during the descent.

With a painful thud Dark landed on his back on someone's front yard, his black wings, having been crushed under his weight, disappeared to be replaced by a winded Wiz trying to scurry out from beneath.

"Sorry," Dark apologized, and rolled over a bit to let the poor creature free. Wiz scurried out and collapsed on the ground next to him, panting in earnest. Towa was lying a few feet away, back in her human form and moaning in pain.

Daisuke was hysterical.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?!"

"I'm fine," Dark grumbled, gingerly pushing himself to a sitting position. "And you sound like a dotting mother."

"I'm not dotting."

"Are you all right over there, Towa?"

She whimpered and sat up as well, rubbing her shoulder. "I want to go home," she whined.

"We can't," Dark said, struggling to his feet. "Now more than ever."

"What do you mean?" Daisuke asked. Dark straightened to a standing position.

"It's the Mystic's Dream, Daisuke. She's loose again."

"What?!"

"And she's using her magic," Towa offered, standing up as well. "She's using _a lot_ of it, and it hurts." She looked so sad. "Her magic always hurts."

"Do you know where she is?" Dark asked the Guide, reaching down and scooping up Wiz. "Is she still at the house?"

"She's at the house, on the street, in the buildings, everywhere! She's everywhere and she's spreading fast," Towa snapped. "Whatever it is she's done is big and reeks with the stench of her. She's done something horrible. To the town."

"All I feel is the cold," Dark said, frowning. "It's gotten really cold--,"

"There," Towa cried, whipping her head around and peering through the trees lining the front yard. Her eyes had glazed over again, just as they had done on Saturday night. "There is the voice that will quiet her song. There does it rise from the depths of the sea, from it's sanctuary away from her voice." She reached a hand outward. "Dark….I can feel it...**Silence—**,"

"Ignore it, Towa," Dark said, brushing past her and preparing for flight once again. "We have a journal to steal."

"No, Dark! You must get the horn! The horn is the only weapon that works against her!" She latched onto his arm and held him to the earth, her grip unnaturally strong. Dark growled and tried to break free.

"Let me go, Towa! The journal is more important right now and I'll lose my window to steal it if I wait any longer!"

"But the horn!"

"You go get the horn then," Dark spat, yanking his arm free and tossing Wiz into the air. "You can get it and you can play it and _you_ can be the one who goes blind. Wiz, to me!" The tiny creature let out a resounding 'kyuu' before transforming into wings again, positioning himself on Dark and lifting him into the air.

"But Dark--!"

"You'll be fine, and I'm running out of time! Just find the horn and then meet me at the museum!" He saluted to her, half mocking, half serious, and then turned towards the sky and ascended upward, leaving Towa behind on the ground.

"No! No, wait!" But he was gone, and she was alone. "Damn you, Dark," she grumbled, stomping her foot. She shivered involuntarily and glanced around herself, helpless. "I'm the Guide, you're the Thief. I find the art, you steal the art. You're not supposed to break the system," she huffed indignantly, reproaching Dark in angered whispers. "Okay Towa, let's just get this over with."

She closed her eyes and tapped into her magic, reaching out with her powers to find the unique pulse of **Silence**. From every part of her body invisible rays shot out like a spider web, reaching across vast differences and pulsating with the energy of anything and everything. If someone were to see what Towa saw when she closed her eyes they would have been overwhelmed. There were light beacons everywhere, creating a mayhem of different colors, sounds and emotions. But she was the Eternal Guide, and years of seeing such chaos had made her sharp.

She ignored the pulse beacons of humans, plants, houses, objects and whatnot and sought out the unique feeling that belonged to the horn. It wasn't so much a beacon, like everything else, but more of a song made substantial, if she were to describe it. It was imposing and engulfing, but also comforting.

There, at least three miles to her left. The song of the horn was emanating with new life, calling her to its location. It was somewhere atop the ocean again, but not in the same place as last time.

"All right," she muttered to herself, her eyes still closed. "I'm coming for you…."

Suddenly Towa's magical vision changed drastically, the entire reach of her magic obscured by a singular, blazing blue light that drowned out everything else. She cried out and clamped her hand over her eyes, as if blinded. Mentally, at least, she was.

"No," she muttered, knowing what the blue light meant. It brought with it a deep aching feeling, and within her Towa could feel her stomach twist. She wanted to be sick. "No…!"

Stepping through the trees behind her crouching form, the Mystic's Dream approached, watching the cowering Guide with a jaded interest. She kept a fair distance away, but all the same Towa could feel her destructive magic, and it pained her.

"What do you want?" she cried, her voice muffled from the ground. She refused to turn and look at the creature. "I have done nothing to you."

"_But you will,_" the Mystic said, her voice carrying about the yard, light as air. "_You seek the weapon that will seal me. I cannot let you silence my song again._"

"I—I must find it," Towa replied, shaking madly. To be speaking with the Mystic's Dream! "You want something…that you are not allowed to have…!"

The Mystic cocked her head to the side. "_Not allowed?_"

"Yes!" Tears filled her eyes. The creature's closeness was physically painful. "You want what is forbidden to all of us--…you want a Hikari li--,"

"_It is not forbidden to me._" She did not yell or scream or cry out, but her statement startled Towa into silence, burrowing deep inside of her and resonating in her chest. It left a deeper impression than a yell. "_It is owed."_

The Mystic's Dream came around the Guide and stood before her head. She knelt down and touched both of her bitter cold hands on either side of her face. Towa screamed in pure agony as the Mystic lifted her face upward, peering at her through dancing blue and grey eyes. But Towa did not open her eyes. She, too, was still susceptible to the Mystic's allure.

"_Towa no Shirube. You are also a creation made from the hands of our Hikari masters. You are an artwork as well; an artwork with great powers."_ She tightened her hold on Towa and the Guide cried out louder. Behind her closed lids the light of her magic blazed to almost a blinding state. "_I will take your powers, Towa no Shirube, and I will use them to find what I am looking for. I will steal them from you. It is what is owed to me._"

"Stop it! Stop it! Leave me alone," Towa screamed, grabbing the Mystic's wrists and trying to pull them away. But as fragile as the creature felt, she was strong, and her hands would not budge. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"_I am not doing anything to you. I am doing this for me._" She lifted her head upward and closed her eyes. Like a sickening wave, Towa felt all of her powers seep out of her and into the Mystic's fingers, taking them from her entire body, from her entire spirit.

"No!" She wriggled and tried to move away, to no avail. "No!" She was growing weaker as her powers diminished. The Mystic looked back down at her.

"_You will sleep, Towa no Shirube. You will slumber in a night I have created just for you._" A blue crescent began to glow on Towa's forehead. "_I will be the Eternal Guide now._"

"NO!"

Towa's eyes snapped open and she stared fully into the face of the Mystic's Dream. Her body seized up, her muscles contracted achingly and her eyes burned with the sight of her. Tears began to spill down her face, but she wasn't really crying. The Mystic let her go, but Towa still could not look away.

"_Sleep now, young Guide. Sleep until I am given what is owed._" She placed her palm on Towa's shoulder and gently pushed her to the ground, laying her comfortably on her back. Towa just stared straight ahead, not seeing, not seeing. "_Sleep until I have my Hikari._"

Towa closed her eyes.

--------------------

She wanted to know his answer. She needed to know his answer. Before Dark showed up.

There was the sound of electronic static and the radio on Satoshi's belt began blinking as a man's muffled voice spoke to all officers.

"This is Detective Saehara speaking. Dark has been sighted thirty yards away, flying in from the southwest. I repeat, Dark has been sighted coming in from the southwest! All units check in and hold your positions!"

"Hey, that's my dad," Takeshi said. They both ignored him.

Satoshi unhooked the radio and pressed down on the talk button, holding it up to his mouth but keeping his eyes on Risa. "This is unit three reporting from the eastern wall. Holding all positions, sir." He released the button and hooked the radio back into place, still holding her gaze. "You two have to leave."

"What?"

"What?!" Takeshi stomped up to him and glared up into his face. "I'm not leaving now, not when Dark is on his way! And look, we have you to help us get into the heat of the action!"

"You do not have me," Satoshi said, shifting his eyes to meet his. "I am not a connection for you to exploit, Saehara-san. As an officer on the Azumano Police Force I am asking you to get back on the other side of that tape and to remain discreet."

Takeshi, although obviously taken aback, held his ground. "Well, if you're asking, then I say 'no'."

Satoshi's glare hardened. "Then as Chief Commander of the Azumano Police, I am ordering to get off of my crime scene right now."

Takeshi tried to challenge his stare but failed, of course. So he simply nodded and looked away. "All right then, if that's what you think is best. Come on, Harada-san." He inched past him and headed back the way they had come. Risa didn't budge.

"You haven't answered me yet, Hiwatari." She spoke confidently and strongly, refusing to back down. She wanted to know. "Why did you give me this jacket?"

Satoshi reached forward and placed both his hands on her shoulders in a physical attempt to calm her down. Were she not angry and anxious she would have been giddy and excited like the schoolgirl she was.

But she _was_ angry. Angry that she didn't know him at all.

"Now is not the time to have a conversation. I am here on business, as has been demonstrated, and I need you and Saehara-san to leave, for your own safety. Please," he added, saying the last word almost as an afterthought. It only made Risa angrier. Satoshi turned to leave but she caught him by the arm and pulled him back, just the same way she had done so a few days back, in the cherry tree orchard at their school.

She whipped him around to face her and met his eyes with her own blazing ones. "Promise me then," she demanded. "Promise that you won't run away the next time I try to talk to you. Promise me that you'll answer me and promise me that you'll tell the truth."

"Harada-san--,"

"Promise." She was inches away from his face, her skin already tingling with the closeness of him. She breathed in his scent. Night air and clean linen. A familiar aroma, and her favorite one.

"…I promise," he finally said, and gently pulled free of her hand. "Now, go," he commanded, turning around and running off before they could speak anymore. Risa and Takeshi watched him go and then were left with only each other.

"Just great, Harada," he complained, shaking his head. "You finally put your feminine wiles to good use and you still get us kicked off the property."

Risa raised an eyebrow at him. "Feminine wiles?"

"Yeah, feminine wiles! You know, the arm grab, the 'in-your-face' attitude, the commanding voice, the physical proximity," he said, prancing about in his demonstration of how a woman might walk. It didn't look womanly at all and Risa couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, if that is what feminine wiles look like then I definitely don't want to be feminine." Takeshi sneered at her and started to leave, but Risa held up a ring of keys dangling from her index finger, smiling. "But they can't be all bad, since they did help me to get Hiwatari's key ring to the museum."

Her classmate whipped around and stared, open-mouthed and surprised. "You got his keys? How?"

"I slipped them off his belt latch."

Takeshi was ecstatic. "Harada, you're amazing! That's brilliant! You just took the Chief Commander of Police's master set of keys!"

She smiled and did a little curtsy, proud of her accomplishment as well. "Why, thank you, Saehara. Now, are you going to come with me or not?" she asked, indicating the museum building. Takeshi nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course I will. But, why do you want to go in? What's in it for you?"

She flashed him a smile that she knew was convincing. "I am Dark's number one fan, right? How could I pass up a chance to meet him face to face?" Takeshi grinned, obviously accepting her lie, and then quickly ran over to the edge of the trees, peeking out and already devising their master plan to get in.

-----------------------

Satoshi ran towards the front of the museum, where the crowd was uproarious at the presence of Dark and the officers were amidst mass pandemonium. He ran to the front line, helping a few of his men suppress the crowd that was pushing on the restriction tape.

"What's our status?" he asked the man next to him, a portly fellow he'd never seen before, part of his father's squad. The man thankfully didn't recognize him and answered him informally.

"This is going to be a huge mess. These people are going crazy and Dark as been sighted everywhere, like he's circling the building. Add that to the fact that we don't even know what he's stealing and you might as well lay this place down on a platter for him." He grumbled in dismay.

"How are things inside?" Satoshi asked, looking up, hoping to see Dark.

"Just as the Commander wanted. The museum staff is going about their regular business. The museum doesn't close till nine, so they're doing what they usually do at this hour, minus the crowds of people."

"Good." Satoshi clapped him on the back in an appreciative manner and left, still looking up into the sky. "Come on, Dark," he muttered under his breath. "Give me my window."

------------------------

Dark landed nimbly in the trees on the outskirts of the museum, peering through the foliage to get a good look at the building at a distance. He glanced up and looked at his black wings.

"All right Wiz, this is it. Lead them away from my scent."

With a faint 'kyuu', Wiz separated himself from Dark's back and, still retaining his wing-like form, flew out towards the museum, conjuring screams and yells from the crowd of onlookers and policemen below. Dark watched for a while as Wiz toyed with everyone, flying one way, then disappearing and flying another way. He was trying to confuse the squad on the rooftop; the officers down below were already confused.

Dark grinned. "Excellent."

With skilled ease the Phantom Thief slipped from his perch and landed, catlike, on the ground. He ran forward, dodging the trees and making his way towards the back of the building. He waited in the low bushes lining the vast outer courtyard and peered through the branches. Already he could see the officers getting nervous; some of the newbies were breaking ranks. He'd just have to find his moment when he could ease through the back door unnoticed.

If Wiz would just hurry up with the plan.

------------------------------

"Okay…now!"

On his signal Risa ran out from their haven in the trees and aimed for one of the employee doors in the side of the museum. Whatever Dark was doing was causing a lot of confusion and the officers were slowly breaking ranks to run around whichever side he had been spotted at last. Takeshi was keeping a close lookout through his camera lens, and the minute one of the doors was left unguarded Risa was to run out and unlock it before anyone saw her.

She ran like she never ran in school or with her sister. She ran as if she had an important mission on her shoulders and the determination to match it. She ran as she had run when she would chase Dark.

Risa skidded to a halt in front of the door and slammed her hands into it to stop from colliding face first. She pulled the ring of keys out of her jacket pocket and began fumbling with them, trying to find the one that fit the keyhole. Anxiety and adrenaline made her clumsy, and she constantly kept missing. She glanced up a few times to make sure no one was coming back. Around her people kept on shouting and calling out for Dark.

"Come on," she mumbled to herself, trying out key after key. "Come on…." Finally one of them slid in and clicked, and Risa was able to turn the knob and push the door open. She half fell into the dark hallway on the other side before quickly recovering and whirling around. Her eyes immediately caught onto Takeshi who was already emerging from the bushes and making his way to her. "Saehara," she said under her breath, waving him to hurry up. He was glancing around as he ran, checking that the coast was clear…

…but then an officer, whose eyes had been trained on the skies, ran into him, knocking Takeshi to the ground. Risa involuntarily cried out and wanted to run out and help him, but another officer saw her and called for her to stop.

And she couldn't stop, so she slammed the door closed and flicked the lock back into place.

-----------------------------------

There was his chance.

One of the officers had just disappeared around the corner and, for a few, precious seconds the wall on the eastern side of the museum was completely unguarded. With amazing speed Dark darted across the courtyard, broke the code on the electronic lock, slipped into the museum and closed the door not two seconds before another officer ran past.

----------------------------------

In the midst of all the chaos Satoshi found his chance to steal into the safety of the museum.

His radio blasted with Detective Saehara's voice and every officer was rushing about to follow the orders.

_"Dark's wings have been spotted somewhere on the roof! He's landed! He's landed!"_

Never before had Satoshi been glad to see the utter mayhem caused by the under-trained Azumano Police. As blur after official blur created the perfect façade, Satoshi pushed open the front doors to the museum and darted off to take his prize before Dark had the chance.

---------------------------

There were too many people.

And too many lights.

And too much noise.

She could feel her Hikari and knew that he was inside the building, beyond the sea of helpless humans and their primitive chatter. She could see him through the Eternal Guide's power like a beacon of clean, unwavering black light. Dark light. Shimmering light. A troubled soul for her to take.

_"In the depths of the night,"_ she sang, closing her eyes and lifting her voice. _"I am like the ghost that douses the light."_

Slowly she faded away into mist and her smoky essence spilled over the ground and seeped its way towards the crowd of people, skimming the ground at their feet as it made its way towards the museum.

---------------------

Risa ran down the hallway she had entered through and pushed open the door at the end. She found herself on the main floor of the museum, right in front of the eighteenth century sculptures and oil paintings. With both panic and excitement making her head spin, Risa started to turn towards the stairwell at her right. But before she could take a step upward a flurry of men's voices echoed down to her and she froze instantly.

"Come on, men! Secure that stairwell! Dark was spotted on the roof, so if he's heading downward we need to head him off!"

Footsteps started pounding against the hard linoleum of the stairs and Risa backed away quickly, turning tail and running in the opposite direction. She didn't stop until she noticed a tiny red light blinking on a wall and found another flight of stairs that led downward next to it.

She skittered down the steps but stopped abruptly at the landing to catch her breath. Her heart was racing and she could barely breath.

Risa stripped off her jacket and hung it on the railing as she leaned heavily against the wall for support. She mentally scolded herself yet again. Why did she insist on taking up these dangerous adventures when she knew she was terrible and everything that required physical savvy?!

------------------

Satoshi tossed his officer's hat aside somewhere and tore at the buttons of his thick cotton overcoat. The uniform was much too constricting for the jobs he had to perform.

Throwing aside his shoulder belt and overcoat, Satoshi ran towards the back of the museum in only a thin white shirt and his navy pants with his radio hooked securely onto his back pocket. He unconsciously glanced upward towards the ceiling, imagining that he could see through the several floors of steel and concrete and up at the chaos that was most likely taking place on the roof.

He knew that it couldn't have been Dark who had landed on the roof. It was too boring and far too easy. If anything it was a distraction, but it was one Satoshi could use and he was going to exploit it to serve his mission. Tonight was not a night for catching Dark.

He found the staircase he had been searching for and checked the red light.

It was still blinking.

His devices were still in place.

With a burst of speed Satoshi flew down the staircase, only half concentrating on where he was going while he tried to listen to the men's voices that were echoing down the hall from behind. So distracted was his mind that he didn't even see her standing there, so when he rammed into her from behind he had been going at full speed and had made the collision extremely painful.

The girl he had hit screamed out in both surprise and pain and Satoshi, having only barely caught his balance, reached out a hand and grabbed her arm on instinct. He blinked several times to push the numbing ache in his shoulder away before he was able to fully focus his eyes on the girl and be properly angry at her for loitering on stair cases.

He opened his eyes.

Satoshi stared at Risa.

Risa stared at Satoshi.

Satoshi could feel all the excitement drop right out of his body only to be replaced with an overflow of regret and intense foreboding. But it was the sensation behind that feeling, the one that sent electricity through the hand that held her arm and sent its charge right through his core, taunting the blush on his neck and the quickened beat of his heart that truly frightened him It was the rapid shock that aroused his inner demon and caused the aching of coming wings to sting his shoulder blades.

Satoshi feared the feeling.

And, because she was somehow bringing it upon him, Satoshi feared Risa as well.

------------------

_Fear. _

_That was the cause of all her pain._

_The fear of Love. The fear of Loss. The fear of Death…_

_She had only been a mere creation by Hikari hands, and through their magic was given the chance to live and breathe like the humans did._

_She was given skin so that she may feel and a voice so that she could sing. She was given legs to dance and ears to hear. She was made to understand kindness and cruelty. She was given the chance to feel the warmth of the day and the coldness of night. She was given so many gifts by her creators._

_And then there was one Hikari, the Hikari, her Hikari, that was there to teach her._

_To teach her how to be happy. To teach her how to be sad. To teach her how it felt to love and be loved._


	15. The Answer Etched In Ice And Snow

**A/N: Just a note to the reviewer Sallywalker…in my summary I say that 'her world will be tainted white', and I do mean tainted, not painted. A taint is considered a contamination or an essence of bad quality, marring something and making it seem undesirable. And white, as widely considered, represents purity and innocence. It was an intentional play on words…to say that something can be made impure by that which is pure…hence 'her world will be tainted white' in relation to the story that Satoshi, who's life and existence is so troubled based on an angel of white, will 'contaminate' Risa's existence. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. )**

'They stood alone on separate ways

Two pillars made of ice and snow

And on into the passing days

They hadn't the heart to stay or go

She was lost, unknown, confused

A rose caught in a devil's snare

He was tired, used, abused

An angel in a monster's lair

Two troubled souls of black and white

Searching for answers they did not know

Yet left in reach of blinding sight

The answer etched in ice and snow…

…But mirror eyes cannot hope to see

Nor fragile hearts to feel

The wind, the rain, the fire, the sea

What is false? What is real?

Angel keys and Mystic lure

A Dream, by moon, unclasp

For her to reach out for the future

And him break free from the past

These pillars melt from wind and flame

These hearts unlock to truth

The rose will bloom and just the same

So shall the angel unroot

Her heart longed to love and be loved in return

And now with her unshadowed sight

Wings shall encase them and she will learn

That he has tainted her world white.'

K.B Mallari

**Chapter Fifteen—The Answer Etched In Ice And Snow**

Dark was a Phantom Thief. It was what he was famous for. It was what he was good at. Everyone knew who and what he was because he was the best at what he did. But to actually witness Dark in his thieving best was a luxury few got to see and even less truly understood. Despite making it look easy, thieving a Hikari creation was extremely difficult and to watch a master at work was a true treat indeed. And, because Dark was so good, no one was able to watch the master at work.

"You know, I never really paid attention to you when you were doing a job," Daisuke said as Dark slipped noiselessly into the emergency stairwell and typed in a few numbers on the key lock that would render it unusable. "But I have to admit that you're really, really good at this."

Dark smirked to himself and leaned over the railing, staring down at the empty space in the middle of the spiral staircase. "Good to know that you're learning to appreciate the finer things in life, Daisuke," he smirked. "Now, watch and learn."

In one fluid motion Dark had grabbed hold of the railing and cleared it in one leap, falling freely downward through the tunnel of space in the middle of the winding staircase. Floor after floor whizzed by in a blur of grey and Dark let the wind whip past his face, enjoying the freedom of falling. Moments before he hit the ground level, however, he lashed out an arm and closed his fingers around the bottom stair rail, swinging his long legs through the air and landing, catlike, on the other side, back on solid ground.

Inside him Daisuke applauded politely. "Nice," he approved. Dark rolled his eyes.

"Please, Daisuke. I'm brilliant." He hurried down the last few stairs and easily broke the code on the basement door, pushing it open. The underground level was eerily silent compared to the mayhem above and every step Dark took echoed against the stone floor. "Now, sit back and gaze upon my brilliance as I steal this journal and get us the hell out of here."

"The museum staff should be continuing as usual, so the journal should be in the curator's wing," Daisuke said. Dark nodded in response.

"All right then. Let's steer clear of all your best friend's traps and visit the curator."

Daisuke sighed. "Hiwatari isn't--," he started to say, but then stopped.

He hadn't thought about it before, but he supposed Satoshi _was_ his best friend.

---------------------------

_It wasn't Krad._

_Krad came after._

_Before it was just her…and her Hikari. The one who taught her what it was to read and write. He had showed her flowers and the names of colors and had let her listen to the music he composed and look at all his paintings and sculptures. When the others of his clan would be out into the world, busy with their lives, he would stay in the grand Hikari mansion with her._

_He showed her the difference between fear and bravery and sadness and joy. When she asked a question he would always answer it. The time they spent together became precious to them both…_

_…because it was always time that was limited to the night, when the moonlight would rise to give her life._

-------------------

Satoshi immediately let go of her hand and stepped back, his face growing warm and his stomach churning with nausea. Risa stood stock still in front of him, her eyes wide and hands buried deep into the sleeves of her jacket.

"Wh—what are you doing here?" he demanded, pushing his voice out past the lump in his throat. The effort made him sound angry.

She pushed her bangs out of her face and let her eyes wander around as she tried to find a reason for her illegal trespassing. "Well, I…um…I was just---I wanted to…." Her cheeks were flushed red and her words came out jumbled. Satoshi sighed. No doubt she had snuck in to see Dark, but had the unfortunate luck to run into him instead of the Phantom Thief. The thought usually made him angry at the fact that people were actually supporting the Thief's stealing, but this time the thought made him angry for a completely different reason.

He turned his back to her and grabbed onto the stair railing, fighting against the rising magic inside his chest.

It made him angry that _Risa Harada_ wanted to see Dark.

Satoshi gasped as Krad jolted violently inside him and he tried his best to remain in control.

"Harada, you have to leave. Now," he said, hoping that she was blind to his inner struggle. Behind him he heard her take a step forward.

"Hiwatari, I'm sorry. I am. It's just that I wanted to…er, well...,"

"I know, okay! You snuck in here because you wanted to see Dark! Well I'm sorry, but this is no place for a lovestruck school girl!" Pain exploded behind his eyes and he gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles to keep from falling forward. Why couldn't she just leave already?

"Hiwatari, the real reason why I came in here is--,"

"_Run, run as fast as you can," _Krad taunted. Satoshi gripped the railing tighter and broke off Risa's sentence.

"Harada, just get out of here! You're trespassing on my territory! You are out of bounds!"

"_Wrath only aids my coming, tamer. You are trapped. Your heart swims in romance while your mind floats in anger. You cannot deny me tonight. Tonight I fly…"_

"Hiwatari…." A tiny hand laid itself on his shoulder and the blast of pain that it brought with it made Satoshi scream in a mixture of rage and agony. He spun around and grabbed Risa by her arms, pinning them to her sides.

"Risa," he said, saying her name in breathless anger. "Go."

He released her from his grip and ran away, dashing with unspeakable speed deeper into the museum and as far away from her rosemary scent as he could get.

------------------

_One night she just came out and asked him._

_She asked what it meant when she looked forward to seeing him every night. She asked what it meant when having him around made her happy. She asked what it meant when every moment they spent together learning became something she cherished. _

_And he smiled and explained to her that it was love._

_So she said 'I love you.'_

_And he said 'I love you, too.'_

_But his 'I love you' was a sad one, and she did not know why._

_She did not know the sadness that he felt…_

…_because he had fallen in love with an artwork of his own creation._

---------------------

Dark sifted through the wires in the fuse box and found the green wire he was looking for. He grinned to himself.

"And now…let there be dark." He tugged gently on the wire, just enough so that it popped out of place and the entire curator's wing was plunged into darkness. The Phantom Thief slammed the fuse box closed as cries of panic emitted from the staff in the wing and the rustle of scurrying feet made the floor rumble. "Ah, the beauty of chaos," Dark murmured, peering around the door to the curator's hall. His acclimated vision sought out the panicking figures of the museum staff scurrying around in attempts to either fix the lights or seek out a remedy.

Dark slipped easily into the hall, sliding past scurrying secretaries and nervous art historians without so much as a brush of wind. His eyes, so completely accustomed to the dark, gazed sharply into each office as he passed: secretaries' desks, shelves of files, a room of chemicals and tools and storage space. It wasn't until he had reached the very end of the hall did he find what he was looking for: a fully equipped lab with five vases, two sculptures and three books sitting on the table in the middle of the room. Dark smiled and stepped in.

"You know, I could have just stolen this book right out of its casing. I _am_ the Phantom Thief after all," he said to Daisuke, approaching the three books on the table.

"Not this time, Dark," Daisuke answered as Dark lifted the first two books in the pile. He smiled at the third one. It was the journal. "The circumstances are different. At least, that's what Mom and Grandpa said."

"How so?" Dark questioned, picking up the journal and sifting through the pages. It was a weighty tome with stiff parchment pages that crackled threateningly as he disturbed each one.

"This time we _don't_ want to run unto Hiwatari."

Dark wrinkled his nose and snapped the book shut. "Who ever said I choose to run into the Commander?"

In his mind Dark could hear Daisuke sigh. "The only other thing you like more than stealing in the limelight is rubbing it in Hiwatari's face. You enjoy getting away with thieving right under his nose; so much so that you will get as close as you can to getting caught before slipping away." Dark started an indignant protest but Daisuke cut him off. "Mom didn't want us running into Hiwatari at all tonight, so we're doing this the old fashioned way."

"All right, all right! I get the picture; you don't have to lecture me. Doesn't explain the calling card though."

"Mom said she didn't want to steal all the limelight away."

"I'm so grateful." Dark rolled his eyes and tucked the book under his arm as he sauntered towards the door, his visage in no hurry at all. "I wonder where the infamous Commander is anyway…"

----------------------------------

Satoshi stumbled into the showroom where the journal was usually kept and collapsed onto the wall. He growled and slammed his fist into the wall, thin cracks appearing in the cement under the impact. Inside him the storm turned and thundered, banging against his brain and coiling around his heart. He could feel his blood get too hot and explode in his chest. He opened his eyes and already his vision had changed. His skull was burning and he shook his head to get the sensation off of him. Blonde locks tossed about in front of his vision. His shoulder blades were aching.

With an almighty cry Satoshi dropped to his knees as the transformation completed itself. Wings exploded from his back, his hair lengthened and every bone in his body screamed in agony as they reformed themselves into Krad, the horrid fallen angel.

Such was the intensity of this transformation, for it had been triggered by both hatred, anger and, horrifying as it was, romantic feelings. It distracted both Satoshi and Krad so much that neither saw the mist creep into the room through the cracks in the floor, the vents in the ceiling and the entryways. They didn't notice the chill that overcame the room nor hear the haunting hum of a song echo against the acoustics.

Krad straightened to his feet, shaking out his arms and flexing his wings. He felt odd and looked down at his clothes. The uniform Satoshi had been wearing was only slightly bigger than he was, so it fit Krad perfectly. But the stiffness of the trousers made him frown and the white shirt hung oddly on him, now that it was ripped in the back.

He rolled his eyes.

Couldn't his tamer learn to wear sensible clothes to a crime scene?

----------------------------

_She was reborn through her mist. _

_She had found him. Found the light that she cherished. Found the heart that she loved._

_She could sense him in the building._

_He was somewhere. Close. Close enough for her to find and to touch._

------------------------------

Dark had his prize. The precious journal was in his hands, in his possession. He had come and stolen what he needed. The job was done. Hiwatari wasn't in sight.

And yet…

"Do you feel that, Daisuke?" he asked, standing in the lab, feet apart, journal tucked under one arm and his head turned up, listening, searching….

"Yeah, I…I do," he answered, his confusion seeping into Dark's own wonder. "It feels…it feels like—Towa! It's the same feeling I get when Towa's trying to find me!"

"That's because it is Towa," Dark answered lowly. "That's her magic, but it's not being used by her."

"Is someone copying it?"

"No one can copy The Eternal Guide's powers; not that accurately, anyway." The Phantom Thief heard one of the museum workers scream and bump into the door of the lab. Dark shifted out of the way, just in case someone chose to barge in. "Someone stole her powers."

"Stole?"

"I think…I think she's here, Dai." He said it with a grin, half of him feeling frightful while the other half relished in the adrenaline the fear offered. "The Mystic's Dream, she's here."

----------------------------

Over the ground, through the cracks in the door, amongst the building. She traveled in her mist-form, like water, like fog, like air, sifting through, towards her Hikari.

Joy, it filled her. Happiness, it fueled her. Desire, it pushed her.

Soon, very soon.

She would live…

…live with his heart in her hands.

----------------------------

Krad tugged at the collar of his shirt, it's constriction annoying him. He flexed his wings and caught sight of a blinking light out of the corner of his eye, smiling when he saw it pulse red.

"Oh, tamer," he said tauntingly, smiling cynically. "How bright you are."

The urge to fight overwhelmed him, the scent of Dark lingering in the air, calling him to an angelic brawl, his favorite kind. The Phantom Thief was in the building, and not too far away. Most likely he already had the journal.

Krad turned with every intention to go and find his rival, but he stopped short, his eyes on the floor. He was standing on the basement level, the floor covered in glowing onyx tiles. It reflected the podiums capped with glass cases, the ancient tomes and parchment scrolls mirrored in the floor, their images distorted like ghostly replicas. The basement floor was less like a museum and more like an ancient wizards study, each page and scroll stamped across with intricate artworks depicting magic and sorcery in the best of ways.

But it wasn't the artwork that had caught his attention.

It was the mist dripping from the vents in the ceiling, pooling together in the center of the room, swirling together to create a form. A very, very familiar form.

---------------------------

Risa really did want to leave, now, at least. She had every intention to turn and barge out the front door of the museum, irregardless of the amount of trouble she'd get in with the police. She had actually started to climb the steps to leave.

But then she felt it, the same ethereal pull that had ebbed its way into her mind nights before…on a balcony somewhere…at a time she couldn't remember…

She stopped, turned, her face screwed up in confusion. She heard music. Someone was singing. Someone with a voice like spring water, like autumn wind, like winter snow, like summer grain. Someone who smelled like a forest brook, or fresh rain, or the aroma of a newly opened blossom.

She took a step back down, her curiosity tingling.

But wait…

Risa shook her head, trying to block out the song. Satoshi had wanted her to go. He had commanded her, yelled for her to leave. She was trespassing, after all. This wasn't her place to be. She didn't belong there. Satoshi did…

But she didn't.

She took the step upward again.

----------------------------

Thin, shapely legs; a gently curved torso; long, fluid arms; sloping, delicate shoulders; a swan-like neck; a perfect face; hair like a waterfall…. Krad watched every part of The Mystic's Dream manifest before him, watching as she reassembled herself. He took half a step back, the world around him changing under her presence. What sounded like a choir of voices hung in the thinnest blanket over his ears, the dark onyx of the level illuminating to pearl colors of pink and blue. He thought of wind chimes and the tinkling sound they could make. He smelled rain. He drew out a memory from long ago.

"You're afraid, Hikari," he said to himself, keeping his tone unnaturally low and calm. "I can feel you inside of me, resisting her, denying her." He smiled, but the cynicism it usually held didn't reach his eyes. "You needn't be such a coward, you know. I was able to escape once, but that's only because I chose too. Now, I choose to stay. Relax, it'll be fun."

Despite his mocking reassurances, Krad cast a sideways glance to the red light pulsing in the wall, flicking his eyes around to find three more scattered around the basement level. Thank goodness, the paranoid little Commander had gone overboard. It was a good thing, this time, at least.

He heard her breathe and brought his eyes to rest on her once more. There she stood—or floated, was more like—in her 'human' form, all ethereal beauty. Krad remembered the first time they met decades ago, the first time he had seen her bathed in the moonlight, her lashes dotted with moonbeams.

Fear.

It had gripped him then and it gripped him now.

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice unbelievably steady. He didn't run away, but he wanted to. The great Krad wanted to run away. Instead he slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at her. "The Mystic's Dream."

She hovered just off the floor, her toes barely skimming the shining tiles. The mist seemed to spill from the very fabric she was wearing, slipping from her skirts and pooling on the floor. Her hair rippled around her frame. Her eyes shone like crystals. She was staring at him.

"_I've found you_," she whispered, every word caring a melody. "_You, the White Angel. Krad."_ She said his name airily; not sensually, intimately. Like the note of a song. It made him more afraid than anything else. "_I've been looking for you."_

"As I've noticed." He shrugged at her, flexing his wings. Her eyes followed the movement. "And, as I said before, I knew you'd find him again." She met his gaze, questioning, like an animal's. "Satoshi Hikari, you've found him."

"_Beautiful,_" she said, ignoring him. She took a step forward on her platform of air. He flinched, recovered, and felt shame for faltering. "_You are beautiful, just as I remember. I remember, from that night…so long ago._" She took another step. "_Do you remember?_"

He swallowed. "Yes. I remember that night very well." He said it coldly.

The Mystic smiled and closed her eyes, her hands clasped over her heart. Or, at least, where her heart would have been. "_A night of wonderful and horrible things. I live off that night. I survive off that night._" She opened her eyes and her smile melted away. Her face was nothing but gorgeous fear. "_But I cannot live off that night any longer._" Another step. "_My existence is withering away._"

"How unfortunate," Krad replied, watching her as she came closer. He lifted his chin defiantly. "I sympathize. I, myself, dread the end of my own existence." She was in front of him now. Directly in front of him. Her face was only inches away, her hair starting to swirl in tendrils around him. He eyed the strands with a narrowed glare, watching in a predator's calm as they wrapped languidly around his arms before falling away in their faux wind.

She tilted her head to the side. "_You're not the same as I remember you_," she breathed. "_You are different._"

"How _did_ you find us again, I wonder?" Krad asked, his eyes looking everywhere but into her own. "The tamer was paranoid tonight. He set up precautions for himself, all in celebration of you. It's odd, that you were still able to find him."

She smiled, her eyes crinkled, she covered her mouth and giggled quietly behind her hand. A childlike motion that she made look beautiful. "_I have changed myself, too. I sought the help from one who none can hide from._"

Krad's gaze flew to her own and he stared right into her dancing pupils, the world around him dimming in light of their wonder. But he knew, far in the back of his mind, that she was as unsubstantial as he was, and it kept him sane.

"Towa no Shirube. The Eternal Guide." He frowned. "You borrowed her powers."

_"Stole,"_ she corrected, reaching up to touch his face. For some reason, he let her. _"I do not intend to give them back, so I stole them. That is what he taught me. That is what he told me stealing was."_

Fear. Again. Stronger now…

…because she was suddenly looking at him differently. Suddenly she was looking at him with desire; looking at him with hunger.

Fear. It gripped him. His resolve was leaving.

He grabbed her hand and pushed away, her cool touch leaving his skin. He had never thought he would be so besotted with a touch. Besotted? No. Frightened. He stepped back.

"Don't look at me that way," he said coldly. "You reserve that for your _precious Hikari_, and him alone. I was not included in anything."

The Mystic's Dream wasn't listening but reached forward again, her delicate hands framing his face. Her hair and her mist danced around him, like objects in water. She stared into his eyes.

"_I'll always look at you this way_."

The world stopped.

All other sounds disappeared.

Time closed.

Colors faded.

All Krad could see…hear…feel…was the Mystic, floating before him, a beautiful being, her eyes dancing, her mouth opened wide as the most haunting, piercing note rattled the air around them, escaping her lips in a breathtaking sound.

---------------------------------

"Dark, do something about these people!"

"Right."

A flick of the wrist, a feather in a wind, and suddenly all the screaming workers, art historians, archeologists, professors and doctors in the wing went silent and limp, dropping down to the ground without another sound. Dark raced over them, nimbly jumping clear of their sleeping forms as he made his way back towards the main center of the basement level, to where the exhibit was actually displayed.

"Daisuke, look."

A wall of mist blocked their path, caging them in the curator's wing. Dark approached its shifting surface slowly, eyeing the mass with a mixture of curiosity and caution. From the mist he could hear, even feel, the song of the Mystic, one, prominent note elevating above the background din of her magic.

"Is it safe?" Daisuke asked. Dark shrugged, tucking the journal securely into the front of his vest and extending both arms outward, a daring grin on his face.

"Only one way to find out." He stepped forward and the minute his fingers touched the mist he was sucked in, pulled into the thick of it in only the span of a breath. It was like being underwater, but he could still breathe; like flying in an atmosphere that was too thick. Dark tried to touch his feet to the floor or move his arms to propel him forward, but it was too difficult. The mist was so thick that it would take the strength of twenty of him just to walk normally.

"See what happens when you just dive head first into things?" Daisuke scolded. "Now we're stuck."

"We're not stuck," Dark snapped back. "This will just take us a while." He grunted and put all his weight into his legs, trying to move them in a walk. After several, agonizing minutes, his right foot had moved only three inches. _Damn it, we are stuck_, Dark thought morbidly to himself. In his head Daisuke growled.

"I heard that," he grumbled. "And I told you so."

---------------------------

Risa squeezed her eyes shut and stepped in, hoping that it wouldn't sting.

It didn't.

When she had seen the mist covering the entryway to the exhibit she had almost turned tail and ran…like she was supposed to do. The softness of it all, and enthralling music beyond, made her bite down on her tongue and step in, testing it on chance alone.

It was like passing through water, only she didn't get wet and it wasn't cold. She was floating in it, her hair floating about her head. She looked down at her hands and kicked her feet. It let her move so freely, so openly, like yards of gossamer that just kept gliding along her limbs.

What was this beautiful magic?

_"I loved a man of stone, but he left me all alone in the shadows of all my sorrow and all of my pain."_

Risa whirled around through the mist, looking frantically around. The song, the voice, it had sounded just over her shoulder, so close that it rang in her ears. But there was no one there, only the mists.

She squinted through the prismatic colors and saw the other side, where the exhibit lay just beyond the barrier. With a fluid ease she half-floated, half-walked her way towards it, swiping at the watery substance with her arms. In only a few, ghostly seconds she had made it across, the empty air visible through only a thin sheen of the mist. She reached out a hand and felt it pass through to the other side, extending out into empty space. It almost felt naked as it pushed through the sheen.

Carefully, and almost reluctantly, Risa stepped out of the mist, landing onto the tile floor with breath of fresh air, like breaking the surface after swimming under water. She blinked and looked back. The mist stayed, looking no more or no less enchanting. But here, on the other side, the music was so much louder.

_"And the love that I love, I will love in vain."_

Everywhere she stepped there was the smoky whiteness of fog hovering over the ground, all of it spilling from somewhere deep within the exhibit.

She walked quietly, trying not to disturb the fog as much. She was in the small, narrowed entry of the bottom floor, maybe only a few meters long before it opened up to the main room. Whatever was happening in there was beyond her vision, but she knew her curiosity would make her cross those few meters.

------------------------------

The Mystic's Dream. The epitome of beauty. Staring into his face. She was close enough, hovering over him, that her breath was his breath, her eyes were his eyes, everything she was he was too.

Fear. It consumed him.

_"I love you."_

She closed her eyes, her fingers barely caressing his face, and kissed him.

So sweetly.

So lightly.

She kissed him.

-----------------------------------

Within a turmoil had risen in response to the kiss. A long ago emotion, a resident of Krad's memory, silenced for generations. It swirled below his skin, a manifestation of Dante's circle, a hellish wind blowing in his chest. Among the chaos he felt himself leaving, exiting his being, falling away.

Did he fight it?

No. Of course not.

Who would dare to fight?

He could feel her fingers in his hair; feel her garments brushing against his limbs, feel her breath on his skin.

He was cold, that's what they called him.

He was cruel, that's how they described him.

He was ruthless and horrid and sinister.

He was evil.

But Dark was of the same cloth, and Dark longed for love.

As for Krad…

He reached up and held onto her wrist, his touch much too gentle to be recognized as his own…

Not even shadows can live without the light.

--------------------------------

It was a breathtaking kiss.

Literally.

She tasted pure and fresh, her hair forever curling around him. She was delicate, even with her head bent down to his. She felt too small, her wrist like porcelain in his grasp. And she was kissing him like she was kissing the man she loved. And it was eating away at his power.

He could feel his magic escape him through their shared kiss, feel his wings suddenly disappear as they were absorbed into her essence. He felt the strength leave his muscles and the breath leave his lungs, but still he didn't break away. His eyes were squeezed shut, almost painfully so.

Did it make him weak, to relish in something as obscure as a kiss?

Yes, it did. And, as a result, it was draining him.

When he couldn't take it anymore, when it became a strain to hold on to his form, he broke the kiss, cried out, and dissolved into a flurry of white feathers, his powers stripped away from him.

Not stolen.

Just stripped.

It was Satoshi now who was left with the fatigue, his knees buckling under him dramatically. His back hit the tiling with a dull thud, his shoulders aching at the contact. Somewhere inside of him he could feel Krad withering up, almost too minute to find. He wasn't gone, he was just weak.

With a groan he opened his eyes, letting them adjust properly to seeing without his glasses. He never really knew why he insisted on wearing them when they would just break or get lost during his transformations.

The feel of gossamer brushed over his arms and his vision cleared into the face of The Mystic.

The first time he, as Satoshi Hiwatari, had looked at her, face to face.

She looked so happy. Her eyes were twinkling, she was smiling, her skin glowed with her moonlit magic. She was perfect, her high cheekbones and fragile jaw line sculpted to deflect any possible flaws. She was kneeling next to him, her tiny frame bent over his face, her shoulders shaking in excitement.

The hypnotism that she possessed began to take over, the mere sight of her entrancing. This was the danger the Hikari's had feared, that only one look and you'd be her slave, devoted only to her, loyal only to her, desiring only of her.

_"There you are," _she said, passing a hand over his eyes. She titled her head innocently to the side. _"With eyes…like water."_ She drew in a deep breath—and began to sing.

_"Come with me and we'll steal through the night,_

_Leave your world behind as you part from the light._

_In my dreams,_

_Somewhere in my dreams,_

_You'll stay in my dreams._

_You'll never return…."_

He was short of breath, nervous at her closeness, but he couldn't move. She leaned in close, right to his ear, her open palm now placed over his chest, right above his heart.

_"Take my hand, close your eyes, hold your breath_

_My song, my voice, embrace the sound of death._

_In my dreams,_

_You'll stay in my dreams._

_You'll die in my dreams._

_You'll never return--…"_

He could feel a weight on him now, right above his heart. He winced as it grew heavier, pressing against his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He coughed and tried to sit up. But there she was again, in his line of vision. She had lifted her head, gripped his eyes with her own.

She was losing her hold on him…his desire was curbing away from her, and she knew it. But how? From what little he had known from his Hikari ancestors no one was ever able to deny The Mystic's Dream. How was it that she wasn't as shining now, or as luminescent?

Then he realized why.

Like a slap in the face, her image exploding in his mind's eyes with magnificent clarity.

Risa Harada.

He saw her as he had seen her in the cherry blossom orchard, her school uniform slightly rumpled from falling down, the blossom held in her hands.

Just thinking of her broke through the magic The Mystic was using, and her alluring song seemed nothing more than ordinary music in the background. He raised his hands, which seemed to weigh a thousand pounds each, and grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her away. She was surprised, her gasp echoing around him against the acoustics, and he felt a horrible tugging sensation in his chest that hurt when she moved.

He winced and looked down.

Her hand, her ghostly, mystic hand was inside his chest, immersed to the wrist, with her fingers clutched around his heart.

-------------------------------

Risa screamed.

She was standing in the main exhibit room where displays of ancient texts filled the area. Her ankles had vanished beneath the blanket of fog and her white jacket glowed in the strange, blue light that had overtaken everything. When she found the source of the fog she squinted past the light, surprised by how blinding it could be despite its soft glow.

That was when she saw them. There was Satoshi sitting on the floor, his glasses were gone and he looked pale and tired, his hair in strings around his face. He was shaking, she could tell that much, and his face was twisted in pain. He was staring, flabbergasted, at the most beautiful girl kneeling beside him, with hair that spilled down her shoulders and onto the tiles, and eyes that glowed like sapphires or diamonds. Everything in the room, the mist, the light, even the song seemed to emanate from her, although she wasn't even singing. Risa was caught by how utterly gorgeous she was.

Then her eyes saw the beautiful woman's arm, how it was extended towards Satoshi, and where her hand had reached right into his chest, translucent to the wrist.

Her cry, horrified by what she saw, caught both their attentions. Satoshi looked at her whether in shock or anger she didn't know, but the woman looked at her with a calm surprise, strands of hair floating and lingering in the air when she turned her head. She met her gaze and Risa realized that her eyes weren't like sapphires or diamonds at all, but like twisting pools of water when the noon light caught the waves.

"What are you doing?" Risa demanded. She was suddenly running towards them, tears filling her eyes for reasons she didn't understand. She never stopped looking at the girl. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

She skidded on the tiles and dove for the woman, her hands clamping down on her forearm.

"Risa, no!" Satoshi tried to scream, to warn her, but his voice was feeble and she wasn't listening.

"Let him go!" Risa tugged on the woman's arm and, because she was so surprised at such a bold move, the beautiful woman let herself be pulled away, her hand materializing as it left Satoshi. He gasped as he was released, gasped like someone was extracting a knife. Risa dropped the girl's arm immediately, her concern for Satoshi choking her. The Mystic floated to her feet and stepped away, staring at Risa incredulously.

_"A maiden…?"_

"Satoshi! Satoshi, are you all right?" She grabbed his face in her hands, looking right into his eyes. They were dazed and glassy, his brow dotted with sweat. He blinked multiple times; he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Harada, what are you still doing here?" He tried to say it with authority to show his anger that she hadn't listened to him and left, but he knew the relief in his voice betrayed him. Truthfully, he was grateful for her lack of obeying. Her presence alone brought him a cool comfort. Risa looked down at his chest, her hands probing his shirt, trying to see if there was any damage.

"Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? What was that?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He grabbed her wrist to stop her hysterics. "She…she was trying to take my heart."

Risa gasped. "What?!"

He gulped down a mouthful of air and looked up and over her shoulder. Risa turned around to see what he was staring at, her eyes landing on the beautiful girl floating behind, her face still wonderfully surprised.

Satoshi's grip on Risa's wrist tightened slightly. "The Mystic's Dream, Risa." She turned back to him. "A living artwork."

-----------------------------

Something was happening in the exhibit, something dangerous and controversial and exciting.

And Dark was still stuck. The mist seemed to thicken even more as he tried to fight his way through it, its density closing in on his body. It was becoming harder to breathe and harder to move, every muscle in his body screaming in their forced motion.

It was resisting him completely, and he was missing out on the excitement beyond the mist.

---------------------------

She was angry.

_"Hikari!"_ Her voice split the air like a siren, shaking the entire museum. Risa and Satoshi clamped their hands over their ears, the sound nauseating. _"Hikari. You're heart is mine and no one else's!"_ Her eyes filled with tears and they fell to the ground as crystal, smashing when they hit the floor. _"I've waited so long."_

She closed her eyes and raised her hands above her head, lifting her chin, her elegant neck exposed. She opened her mouth in another lingering, piercing note, but this time mist spilled from her lips as well, different from the light fog swirling in her wake. It was dark and murky, spilling to the ground like tar. The tiles it touched were suddenly thrown years into the future, aging them until they faded and cracked and nearly turned to dust.

Risa cried out and jumped to her feet, grabbing Satoshi's arm and hauling him to his. They both backed away from the seeping mist, staring as it aged the room they were in.

_"All the years…"_

Satoshi felt his back press against something and realized they had reached the wall. There was nowhere else to go, and the black mist was surrounding them, closing in on their feet. Risa pressed herself against the cold cement of the wall, trying in vain to meld into its granite face. Satoshi turned away from her and squeezed his eyes shut, burrowing deep inside himself to search for the monster within.

"Krad," he called silently, his pride bruising even as he spoke. _"_Krad, I need you. You have to come out, now." Silence met his request, broken only by the Mystic's song. He curled his fingers into fists. "Krad! I need you! Now!"The mist was creeping closer. "KRAD!"

A feeble whisper, barely a voice, finally answered back. _"Even if I wanted to, hideous tamer, I could not come out no matter how you called my name. I have been weakened." _Satoshi's eyes flew open, unbelieving. _"Not even our hatred for one another could beckon me now."_

"Well what can?!"

Risa jumped and looked at him sharply. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud.

_"I need more than simple hatred,"_ Krad whispered. _"I need something powerful. So don't expect any help from me. You haven't any feelings nearly powerful enough."_

"Satoshi! The mist!"

It was only a foot or so away, The Mystic rising before them, her light growing brighter, her song growing louder. They were running out of time, and they had to escape. But he needed Krad to escape. He _needed_ Krad to escape.

"Satoshi!"

Heart pounding rapidly, Satoshi whirled around, slamming his open palm into the wall. _Do what you have to do,_ he thought to himself. _Use what you have to use. It doesn't matter if it kills you. Save Risa._

"Nunc lento sonitu dicunt Morieris! _Now, this bell tolling softly for another, says to me…Thou must die!_"

The red lights that he had planted in every wall, on every floor of the building, blazed a vibrant crimson in response before each one exploded in a blast of garnet light. Each glare, shining through every window, left behind a glowing Lunar Crest imprinted on the walls, the intricate designs visible on each one.

The Mystic's Dream screamed, no longer musically but hideously, as four Crests suddenly appeared on the walls surrounding her, their red light opposing her own. She covered her face with her arms and curled into herself, drawing her mist and hair around her to shield herself from the magic. The images of the Crests burned themselves into her skin, red lines and curves appearing on her arms and legs, scalding her. She went on screaming, her black fog rising up from the floor and creating a whirlwind around her. She cowered in her cocoon of light and air, the Lunar Crests pulling relentlessly at her moonlight.

_"It isn't fair," _she wailed. _"I waited for so long! It is not my time yet!"_

Satoshi turned around, the wind snatching at his hair and tearing at his clothes. Beside him Risa was fighting against the Mystic's tornado, her jacket flapping mercilessly around her small frame and her hair threatening to pull from its band. She was so scared. She looked so scared.

_"Hikari!" _

The wind picked up, the Mystic grew angrier, and time continued to run out.

-----------------------

Dark felt a blast of wind explode from the exhibit and seep into his cage of mist, the impact still potent enough to slam painfully into him. It stole his groan and left him with the ringing linger of a scream, the sound, thankfully, only fleeting.

"What was that?" Daisuke panicked. Dark gritted his teeth.

"Something's happening in there! It's the Mystic, something's happening to her and she is not happy. We need to get out!" He flexed his biceps and tried to swing his arm forward and, to his surprise, felt it cut through the mist easier than before. There was still resistance, but it had lessened considerably. He stared down at his arm, wide-eyed. "She's getting weak," he said quietly. He flicked his gaze to the other side of the mist barrier, the lightening flashes of blue and, now, red, taunting him from beyond. "Daisuke, I can break us out of here."

"You can?"

"Yes, I can. But I'm going to need wings." The tendons in Dark's neck flexed. Guilt began to mound heavily on his conscious.

"But Wiz isn't here," Daisuke pointed out simply. The Phantom Thief clenched his jaw as he already prepared to block his mind against Daisuke's voice.

"I know," he answered back. "And I'm sorry."

With a single effort that lasted no longer than a millisecond, Dark drew out his magic harbored deep inside, pulling it out with a powerful cry and jutting it through his shoulder blades, conjuring two, massive black wings from his own accord. The mist around him shattered into a thousand glass pieces as the wings erupted through the barrier, the cosmic appearance of the feathered beasts manifesting to the music of Daisuke's agonized wails.

---------------------------------

Fear. It overwhelmed her.

When she had come to the museum she had thought to uncover the mystery that was Satoshi Hiwatari, to delve into his unknown. To understand him. She did not know she would come to find herself in the presence of a goddess, her rage escalating and her powers beyond imagination. It scared her worse than any nightwalker. It frightened her more than any midnight shadow. And yet it fascinated her to the brink of insanity.

Satoshi Hiwatari lived in such a fantastic world.

The mist that spun in front of them clawed at Risa's face, biting into her skin like a blizzard wind. A sound like nails on a chalkboard or a dying animal ripped at her ears. She was closing her eyes against the mythical tirade and wanted nothing but for the goddess to stop.

"Satoshi, what do we do?!"

His response, his immediate and unwavering response, happened in an instant, giving no time for either of them to think. She turned her face towards him and just barely opened her eyes, seeing him standing there and staring down at her, fatigue pushed viciously out of the way to be replaced with brittle determination. He opened his mouth and shouted only two words.

"I'm sorry!"

Risa had barely heard him before she felt him grab her wrists and pull her towards him, his mouth crashing down onto hers.

It was nothing like any of the 'kisses' they had shared before. This time they were both fully aware of what was going on.

It was an explosion of heat and hormones, focused into one, ravishing kiss. Risa couldn't even think, even breathe. The danger they were in, the living artwork in all her miserable glory seemed to evaporate. Everything was Satoshi. His lips claiming hers, his arms scrabbling up her arms and cradling her head, his height looming down on her, arching her backwards. She was surprised and, to be truthful, incredibly scared. He was so much stronger than her and frightening when he was angry; even if she had wanted to stop him there was little she could have done.

But she didn't want him to stop.

She liked it.

Despite everything else she liked it, her mind liked it, and, fires burn her, her body liked it.

Before she knew it she was grabbing onto him as well, her hands tangling in his hair and trying to get him closer than he already was. It wasn't a romantic, simple kiss exchanged between two shy individuals in a novel on a shelf, but a fiery exchange of tangled emotions that was anything but simple and shy. There was fear and anger and passion and desperation and spontaneity. She felt his hands trace down her back and nearly lift her off her feet. Her senses were acutely aware of where his shoulder was and his chest and his knee. And her brain was acutely aware that it was Satoshi Hiwatari who was kissing her and that she was kissing in return.

Satoshi Hiwatari.

Satoshi Hiwatari…

------------------------------

He hadn't expected to like it so much.

He had kissed her in his desperation to draw out the monster and save them from The Mystic, but he hadn't expected to like it. A lot.

She was so petite and fragile, nearly half a head shorter than he was, and he nearly had to bend in half just to reach her. But it was worth it. Like the rosemary scent she wore, Risa Harada's kiss was sweet and sinful, stirring feelings that Satoshi was hardly familiar with. This was the difference that he hadn't felt when he looked at the Mystic. This was the reason her face had broken the spell. He could feel her fingers in his hair and it made him both enraged and helpless: enraged that her touch sparked new life into him and helpless at the thought of his vulnerability once she stopped.

From the minute their lips touched Krad had responded within him, his power fueling at such a rapid state than ever before. Already the pain was beyond unbearable and he was close to being rendered unconscious, but the surprise of Risa's kiss made him fight like Hell against the wave of suffering, if only to make their moment last longer.

He drew Risa up in his arms and lifted her off the ground, trying to physically cling on to her for as long as he could manage.

Who was this person that he had become? How was it that Risa made him act so…so…irrationally?

With a small little hum Risa let her full weight fall into his arms and she pulled her fingers from his scalp, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself into his chest.

"_There…this is power!"_

The moment had finally reached its farthest level of intimacy and, with an almost audible crack, Satoshi felt his resolve break and Krad erupt right through him. He pulled his mouth away from Risa's and screamed, clutching onto her as he dropped to her knees. Risa called out his name, but it was too late.

He was already gone.

She was left with only Krad now.


	16. But Mirror Eyes Cannot Hope To See

**Chapter Sixteen — But Mirror Eyes Cannot Hope To See**

When Dark entered the scene he found himself in the midst of the climax. Furious wind howled within the exhibit and mist and light were everywhere, creating with them mayhem of epic anger. In the center of the whirlwind was a writhing, twisting figure, red lines marring the blue flow. It was there that the screams originated, there that the deathly song was manipulated into hellish cries of anguish.

"That's her!" Dark's shouts were nearly lost in the wind. "That's the Mystic!"

"What is she doing? What's happening to her?" Daisuke forced out, his voice weak, the fatigue in his words gnawing at the Thief's conscious. There was an almighty cry and Dark shielded his face against an enormous blast, hugging the journal against his chest.

"I don't know, but this is dangerous! She has no control of her powers! She could kill everyone!"

"How do we stop her?"

A podium careened towards Dark through the air and he jumped aside, the edges barely missing his face. "We have to make her quiet, we have to make her stop singing! She'll loose her power in **Silence.**"

---------------------------

The Mystic's Dream felt her insides burn, felt the fire of the Lunar Crest seep through her exposed flesh. She cried out, swiping at her arms and legs, begging for the sensation to leave her. How could he have done this? How could he have betrayed her?

Her Hikari…her own Hikari…

A light, not her own, erupted before her and the massive white wings of Krad filled her vision, his presence pressing in around her. She blinked through her mist, longing to see his face. Confusion set in.

She had drained him of power. She had weakened him in order to obtain--…. So how was it that he had returned? Where had he conjured the strength?

---------------------------

Krad straightened to his feet, his long, blonde hair whipping in the torrent of darkness the Mystic was creating. He cast a quick glance to the Crests shining on the walls and felt the others resonating on the floors above them.

"Clever boy," he said, spitting out the bitter compliment through clenched teeth. Though he had found enough power to manifest it wasn't enough to ease the pain of the transformation. He could feel the Hikari boy howling within, the pain unbearable for his mortal body.

A gasp near his feet brought his attention down to Risa, the cowering girl curled near the wall. She was grasping at her throat, a thin, hairline of mist breaking from the typhoon and slipping stealthy through her lips.

He knew she was feeling pain; the mist was probably aging her throat, cutting off her air, making her endure years of aging in the mot excruciating of ways.

"You don't get this one," he muttered to himself. He grabbed on to Risa's arm and yanked her to her feet, his other hand extended towards the mist. Blazing, golden light broke through the fog and screams and the blast sent the already harsh wind into a frenzy as the mist recoiled closer to the center. Risa was released from the Mystic's grasp and she coughed through a ragged throat, her body weighing heavy in his hands. He let her go and she braced herself against the wall.

_"Time has no mercy. This will not end soon…."_

The ghostly threat hovered in the air around them, clinging to the walls and vibrating through the building framework. Krad, despite the wretched fear the words brought, defied the Mystic with his steely arrogance.

"Maybe not for you, but I am finished for the night." He took hold of the lapel of Risa's jacket and forced her in front of him, his eyes watching the mist, ready to attack if the Mystic tried to stop them. "Your tantrums are far too extravagant even for me."

Risa, not at all please by the rough way he was handling her, batted at the white angel with weary hands, her breath sticking in her lungs and making it hard to breath. "Let me go," she yelled, forcing the hate into her words. She remembered a white angel from before, her memory fleeting in light of the chaos. All she could recall was that he enjoyed pain. "Let me go!"

He grabbed her arms in his hands and forced her them down to her sides, his demeanor not at all in the mood to deal with a whiny, little girl.

"Stop fighting me. I'm not going to kill you." He smiled cynically at her, which was, in no way, intended to be comforting. "I need you too much."

He yanked at her unceremoniously and she fell into his waiting arms, her cheek crushed against his chest. Unlike the warmth of Satoshi he was nothing but bitter coldness. His arms wrapped around her and she felt her feet suddenly leave the floor, the feel of his beating wings vibrating and traveling through his shoulder blades into his heart and against her face. She felt herself slipping, screamed, and reached up with her arms, latching them around his neck. He let her.

Together they rose off the black tiles and headed upward, Krad fighting against the Mystic's blowing pull. When they hit the ceiling he reached up a hand, muttered something, and began tracing a design on the cement with his finger in red ink. Risa craned her neck back to see what he was doing. She thought it was yet another one of the red crests already glowing on the walls but it wasn't. Instead he was tracing one, singular character; the sort of character that reminded her of Arabic letters, or Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was one, twisting form that he sealed with a flourish, muttering something incoherent under his breath. He curled his fingers into a fist and slammed it into the middle of the red character. The cement disintegrated beneath his knuckles, raining down on them in large chunks. Risa closed her eyes and pressed her face into her chest, protecting herself from the debris.

"Krad!"

Both Risa and Krad turned towards the Phantom Thief's cry. Risa gasped and started to call out to him, but her captor stifled her with his hands. Risa's eyes grew wide, trying to relay her panic to Dark. She saw him hovering near the stairway entrance, his black wings beating steadily to keep him aloft and a thick, weighty book brandished in his hand.

Risa felt Krad's hold on her tighten menacingly, and she remembered the aerial battles she had seen on television when Dark would fight against a white angel, not unlike himself. She figured that the mere sight of the Phantom Thief would make this creature angry.

"Finder's keepers," Dark taunted, waving the book at him. Risa glanced up and noticed the cold glint in the white angel's eyes, the obvious hatred mixed with a respectful envy that seemed to make him look absolutely sinister. But then the look lightened and he smiled, the hand he used to silence Risa jerking her a little.

"Yes, I supposed I do agree with those terms," he said, nestling his blonde head near Risa's. Below she saw Dark grit his teeth. "You found a book and I found a girl. I'd say neither lose in this trade, wouldn't you agree?"

The Phantom Thief opened his mouth to say something but his rival found no reason to stay and listen to his reply. Risa felt herself pulled briskly upward, the basement level disappearing as the two flew into the entrance lobby. Through the glass of the front doors she could see all the townspeople and police officers standing outside, their floodlights and sky beams blazing everywhere, searching for dark wings.

"Let's give them a show, shall we?" her captor hissed playfully. The muscles in his body tightened, he beat his wings and soon Risa found herself screaming manically as they jetted straight for the glass front doors and burst through them in a flurry of glistening light and angel laughter.

-----------------------------------

Dark growled low in his chest, his grip on the journal tightening. "Who does that monster think he is, kidnapping Risa?!"

"Dark…."

The Thief ignored Daisuke's voice and prepared to take off, ready to pursue Krad like he'd done so many times before. But before he could beat his wings once and ascend through the ceiling the wail of a woman's fury caught his attention and the swirling mist that had consumed the basement instantly halted, the sudden cease of wind and mist causing a frightening sight. Dark turned towards the center of the room and saw the Mystic's Dream hovering at the center of her typhoon, her curled up and hunched body slowly unfurling. She lifted his face upward and Dark saw that the red lines that marred her skin had deepened to a sinister maroon. She looked up through the hole in the ceiling, looked at the Crests on the walls, and then looked at Dark, her eyes no longer sweetly entrancing but horrifically maniacal.

Dark swallowed hard. "Damn."

_"This is not over."_

With one hand the Mystic swiped at the mist surrounding her, grabbing a handful of the wayward substance and hurling it at Dark. In the nick of time Dark dropped out of the mist's range, dodging it so that it slammed into the wall behind him instead of straight into his chest. But instead of aging the wall as her mist had been wont to do, it exploded into sweltering blue flames, creating a crater in the cement. It was all Dark could do to keep his jaw from dropping.

Daisuke was panicking. "Dark! Dark!"

"I know, Daisuke, I got her! Just hold on!" Dark already knew that dodging would not help their situation, and that retaliation would be the only thing she'd understand. He just hoped that Dai was up to the fight.

But The Mystic was fast. Who knew that such a delicate creature was so efficient at fighting? She moved with amazing speed, nothing more than blue and silver blue, like the dancing girl that she was. He shot repeated bolts of darkness out of his hands, Dai writhing inside at the pain, but she evaded each one easily: a turn to the right, an arch of the back, a delicate lift of the leg, a turn of her cheek. Each move melded smoothly with the next, seamless, as if she had been through this fight before and could remember each dodge and deflect, like a choreographed sequence. Dark took a fistful of feathers and threw them from his hand, each one sharp as a blade, each one aimed at her heart.

She spun on the ball of her foot, her hair whipping like a scarf around her and her hand flying up as she turned, trails of wavering mist falling from her fingers. The feathers passed through the mist and disintegrated into dust, aged into nothing. With a final flourish she landed on the tile floor, like a cat on the prowl, her fingers splayed over the reflecting black tiles and her weight hovering on the balls of her feet, her knees bent close to her face. Her gossamer dressed rode up to her thighs, every feline muscle in her legs flexed and defined.

_"Shadowed rebel,"_ she hissed, her lovely voice fitting perfectly into a sinister growl, deep and throaty. _"If you wish to fight me then I will gladly oblige."_

Dark, actually flinched at the glint in her eyes, his blood running cold as he staggered away from her.

The Mystic's Dream with a thirst to kill? Who would have thought.

-------------------------------

Krad caused quite an uproar amongst the waiting crowd and police officers outside. Not only was he yet another winged entity flying the night skies, but he had showered the surrounding security with glass as he left the museum building and had used his magic to shut off all the flood lights surrounding the area, plunging the scene in darkness. People had started screaming and running into a massive panic, enough so that no one even noticed as Risa and the white-winged angel disappeared.

They flew across the town, Risa's face buried into his chest most of the way. One would think, after all the times she had run after Dark and after all the times she had flown with him, that she wouldn't be afraid of heights anymore. The truth of the matter was that Risa was terrified of heights, as any proper person would be, and even more so now that she was in the hands of stranger.

Well…maybe not a complete stranger…

"Tamer…"

At the sound of his voice Risa looked up. His brow was furrowed and he looked pained, as if something were hurting him. It was the same look Satoshi often wore when she were around him. The same look he had worn before he had suddenly evaporated and replaced with this creature.

Krad groaned out loud and their flight was interrupted. They lost altitude momentarily, making Risa scream, but the wings beat once then twice and they lifted higher once again. Risa held on tighter and pressed closer to Krad's shirt, the linen still holding the scent of Satoshi on them.

"Um…Krad?" she tried, saying his name softly. He started a bit and looked down at her, as if he'd forgotten she were there. "Is she…is that girl going to come back?"

He didn't answer her question. Instead he just stared at her as they flew, his amber eyes almost as piercing as their cerulean predecessors. Risa was caught by his features not simply because he, too, was handsome, but because he somehow held the same handsomeness as Dark. As if he were a mirrored image of the Phantom Thief.

He suddenly grinned at her. "Do you fear me, girl?" he asked. There was a pause, then Risa shook her head.

"No," she said, surprised that she could actually speak. She wasn't afraid of him at all…only…curious? "I'm not afraid anymore."

He laughed: a harsh grunt that barely escaped his lips. "Liar," he breathed, tearing his eyes away and looking out into the dark expanse of the night. "Little, meddling girls will always fear me."

Risa, somewhat disturbed by what he had said, followed his gaze outward. He was heading for the coast, for the same beach that Risa had nearly drowned at only a few days prior. She could see the same whirlpool near one end of the sand strip and the rocks that littered the other.

"Ah!"

His cry scared her. It had been sudden and unexpected, and his hold tightened around her, nearly crushing her. Light was appearing again, his wings were shifting, and Risa knew another transformation was at hand.

On their descent downward Krad threw back his head, let out an ear-splitting scream and then exploded into a storm of white feathers. Risa gasped, expected to be released and fall freely down to earth, but the shoulders she clutched to only changed their shape and the arms wrapped around her only shifted from one pair to another. When they touched down onto the soft sand of the beach Krad had been replaced by a very tired, very pale, yet very real Hiwatari.

He waited until her feet were solidly on the ground before he let her go, staggering drunkenly away from her and tripping on the soft ground, landing with an ungraceful thud onto his back. He groaned and hissed through his teeth as his shoulders made contact with the grainy carpet, stinging at the place where the wings had disappeared.

Risa called out his name and hurried to his side, his closed, sunken eyes and shallow breathing scaring her. She dropped to his side and hugged him close. She was afraid because people didn't look like that, they didn't look like they were on the brink of death. People weren't supposed to look like that.

Delicately caressing his head with one hand she checked his pockets and his belt but to no avail. He had neither radio nor cell phone and Risa had none either. She tried to hold back her tears at the sheer frustration of it all. How could she save him if she couldn't call for help?

"Risa…"

She turned to look at him as his sunken eyes opened.

"Satoshi. Satoshi, I'm right here…"

He blinked. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head, more horrified than happy to see that he was more worried about her than himself. "I'm fine. You're the one whose hurt, and I don't know what I can do to help." She ripped off the white jacket and rolled it up frantically, gently tucking it beneath his head. Despite the cool breeze blowing from the sea, he was sweating, his blue hair damp around his face. "I have to go. I have to find someone to help me."

She started to stand up, her fingers leaving his face. Satoshi, in a sudden panic of fear, grabbed her wrist before she could leave. But he wasn't looking at her but past her, behind her, to where the ocean stretched out towards the horizon.

"Wait," he breathed, his words labored. She stopped and leaned over him again, her hair falling out of its tie, tendrils framing her worried face.

"What? What is it?" She laid a hand upon his chest and frowned deeply. His heart was beating rapidly and his breathing was ragged. He pointed behind her, his eyes trained on something far off and mesmerizing.

"Risa."

She turned to follow his gaze. She gasped. Hovering only a few meters out over the water was a silver horn, it's bare face glinting in the moonlight. Risa blinked, astounded. Still, after everything that had happened, she was astounded.

"Satoshi, what is that?"

"**Silence**," he breathed, coughing on his words. He tightened his hold on her, forcing her gaze back to him. "It can...stop her. It must—play…." He choked on his words and involuntarily convulsed, his screams turning his face red and tensing all of his muscles. She noticed, fleetingly, that his arm had been cut and was bleeding.

So spastic was his pain that he jerked violently and nearly sat up, but Risa caught him in her arms and cradled him close, trying to ease his pain. He leaned heavily against her shoulder, his fingers twisted in the cloth of her shirt, his hair tickling her neck.

"It's okay, it's all right," Risa soothed, but tears dripped from her eyes anyway. She couldn't bear to see him like this, cringing as he was torn from the inside.

Satoshi spoke into her shoulder, his voice vibrating against her collarbone. "Help me up…I need to get it…."

"No!" she cried, tightening her hold on him. "You're not going anywhere!"

"I have to…get the horn…."

"If you go in the water you'll drown! You don't have the strength to swim all the way out there!"

He released her shirt from his grip and lifted his head, moving to push himself to his feet. "I can't let her find us…I can't let her find you…" he was muttering, but Risa would have none of it. She shoved his weakened state back onto the sand, forcing him to lie back down.

"You're not going anywhere," she commanded, bending over him and staring into his eyes. "I won't let you kill yourself for stupid chivalry!"

"Risa, the Mystic," Satoshi forced out, his fists clenched as he tried to match her demanding tone. "If that horn…does not play…she'll find you—and I can't…." But he couldn't even finish his sentence for his body could not generate the strength.

Desperate, determined and frightfully angry that he was still only worried about her, Risa leaned down close and cupped his face in her hands.

"Fine," she said lowly, forcing her tears to cease, replacing her worry with a stone cold resolve. "Then I'll save us this time."

He reached out to try and grab her, to stop her, but she had already pushed away from him, running towards the darkened sea. She stripped off her shirt and pants as she went, knowing that she wasn't as good a swimmer as Satoshi and that their weight would only drag her down. Clad only in her undergarments, she dove straight into the freezing water, letting the cold fuel her ambition rather than dampen it.

She kicked back upward, broke the surface and began cutting her way through the salty sea, aiming straight for the hovering horn. It wasn't that far from the shore, but it was like hell trying to fight the waves, the tide having swelled with the moon. Yet, although fatigue tugged at her muscles and her previous fear and shock had already drained her energy, Risa swam on, thinking only of Satoshi and saving him from the monstrous woman.

---------------------------------

Dark was nearly at his breaking point. Or, to be truthful, Daisuke was nearly at his breaking point. The Mystic was attacking the Phantom Thief with full force, her movements nearly seamless in their connection.

Dark barely landed low on the basement floor before he was forced back into the air as the Mystic threw another fistful of her mist. It contacted with the tiles and erupted into a shining display of glitter and light, yet leaving behind a destructive crater. The scene had been such since the battle had begun: the Mystic attacking relentlessly and Dark dodging and retaliating when he could. The basement level was being destroyed yet, surprisingly, none of the artworks had been touched. No matter how close either of their blasts came to the art they were never affected, each piece only attracting a small layer of mist around them.

It was the Mystic's Dream that was protecting them. Her mercy extended to that of her fellow artworks and no farther.

"_Come, Dark, the greatest shadow of the night. Come and show me your legendary power!" _She stepped down out of the air near the wall and crouched low, placing her palms flat on the floor. The years began to seep through her fingers, ageing the tiles beneath her touch. The effect spread like veins through the tiles and soon consumed the entire floor. "_Now you have only your wings to evade me. Dark, the infamous Black Wings!"_ She threw up her right hand and sent another blast at him.

"Damn it!" Dark swirled in the air and sent his own blast back at her, Daisuke cringing weakly within him. "I don't want to fight you," he yelled at her, his patience wearing thin, his composure faltering. He blinked momentarily and suddenly she was gone out of his line of sight. He blinked once more and she was directly in front of him, hovering above the ground, her face looming at his. But no longer was she beautiful, but frightfully maniacal.

"_Your words are pitiful compared to my song."_

Her hand shot out, her hair blazed around them like tongues of flame and her fingers curled around his throat, catching him in a vice-like grip.

----------------------------

Risa, breathing heavily, reached up a shivering hand for the horn but was greeted by a crashing wave, the angry water breaking over her head and yanking at her fragile body. She clamped her mouth shut and gripped on tightly to the horn, afraid that it would get washed out to sea. But she found that it did not move from its hovering place as the wave broke, and it was its solidity in the air that kept her from tumbling about beneath the surface.

Practically dangling from the curved instrument, Risa cried out and tugged, releasing it from its airy perch. It relinquished itself into her care and she immediately began to plow herself back to shore, her prize hugged close to her body.

Wave after wave beat against Risa, but this time their direction worked in her favor, saving her frozen body and tired muscles from fighting against their natural flow. Within moments she was being pushed onto the sandy shore, her feet connecting with the fine sand of the beach. She tried stumbling her way out of the water but her legs throbbed and gave out, letting her fall onto her back on the wet sand, the sea still climbing up and snaking around her legs and waist. She panted and sputtered, her eyes stinging from the saltwater.

But no, there was no time for resting. She had the horn, and she had to play it, like Satoshi said.

Still lying flat on her back, she lifted the thin and simple instrument to her lips, sucked in a deep, chilling breath, and blew.

------------------------------

It happened in nearly an instant. One moment The Mystic's fingers were tightening around Dark's throat and then the next moment the distant sound of chaotic music filled his head and he was falling through her lifeless fingers, crumbling to the basement floor in a gasping heap. He coughed and sputtered and fought to gain his composure, momentarily panicking at the thought of touching the tiles drenched in her magic, and then realizing that they had returned to their reflective black, retaining only the damage of blasts and fire. He blinked and looked up. There hovered the Mystic, returned to her to glass form, her face frozen back into serenity and no longer the twisted features of a desperate woman.

Dark rubbed at his neck as he stared up at her.

"The horn. Someone must have blown the horn of **Silence**!"

Piercing, fiery pain suddenly shot through Dark's body and he doubled over in agony. There was no time to think or react, because he was already changing, Daisuke's body far beyond its own limit. The black wings exploded and the Niwa boy reappeared, collapsing into an unconscious heap on the basement floor, his clothes drenched in sweat and his face grey.

Within seconds of fainting the police were inside the basement, weapons at the ready and flashlights blaring. They found the curator's wing and all the unconscious museum workers safely inside it, and they found the showroom of the basement completely destroyed yet with all the artworks miraculously in tact. In the ceiling there was a hole, on the walls were the fading images of intricate, red designs. And yet the officers, thankfully, never found Dark, Daisuke or The Mystic's Dream, because, in the nick of time, little Wiz had come swooping in as black wings and had whisked the boy, the book and the artwork away and into the night, just like any good comrade of Dark would have done.

--------------------------

Satoshi, sick with pain and dizziness, forced himself to his shaking feet as the horn was blown, the beach illuminated in fiery moonlight as it was sucked into the confines of the horn, inscribing itself, once more, into the instrument's simple face. Within seconds the mass musical mayhem subsided and Satoshi could see Risa lying along the shore on her back, the horn held away from her as she shielded her eyes against the blaze.

He wanted nothing but to stagger over to her, but found his steps labored. His head swam and his stomach lurched. Any moment he'd be keeling into the sand, unconscious. He was a useless lump, pushed far beyond the limit.

But it would not suffice.

So he dug into his brain, looked into the very dangerous depths of his mind and sought out Krad, finding the parasitic angel hiding away in his labyrinth of thoughts.

He wasn't hurt and feeble anymore, but fully regenerated and healthy. He should have been. Risa's kiss had given the monster enough fuel to last a lifetime.

"_Sit down, tamer_," Krad drawled, although not in his usually mocking tone. He was sincere now and monotonous. It was obvious that he had been brooding about something when Satoshi interrupted him. "_You're at your end for tonight. Just go to sleep._"

"Krad, please," he begged silently in his mind. Pride was no longer an issue for him; all he cared about at that moment was Risa Harada. "Heal me. You have the power; just do it."

He had expected the monster to laugh and jeer and taunt him mercilessly for sounding so pitiful, but Krad did no such thing. Instead Satoshi felt him sigh heavily. Krad had never sighed so sadly before.

"_Why should I heal you? Why should I do anything for you? The weaker you are, the happier I am. It has always been this way. Nothing has changed._"

"I need to help Risa. I need to get her home before she gets sick…or before the Mystic returns to…to kill her." The last thought twisted not only around Satoshi's consciousness but his heart as well. Krad felt it too, and a small, weary smile graced his demeanor.

"_Oh, Satoshi-dono. How you have fallen._"

"Krad! Please!"

"_The horn was blown, and I can feel that the Mystic's Dream has been returned to her temporary prison. You need not fear for her coming to finish any of us off. And your precious little Sacred Maiden is strong-willed, almost annoyingly so. She can take care of herself._"

Krad's words were contradicted by a watery cough from Risa and a soft groan from her direction. Satoshi took a chance to glance her way and saw her struggling to move, turning onto her side feebly. She was weak, and it wasn't all due to her late night swim, which, in itself, had been amazing. The Mystic's magic had touched Risa, had nearly ended her, and although Krad had stopped the worst of it the effects still lingered. He knew her body was trying to fight the withering effects of the Mystic; it was a wonder her heart hadn't given out on her while she was in the water.

He needed to get her someplace warm before she fell victim to the cold. She wouldn't be able to fight any illness in the state she was in.

"Krad, you know as well as I that the Mystic will return. She will break from her prison once again, just as she did before, and she will come hunting us; she will come hunting you. She is powerful, made more so by whatever grudge she holds against my blood, and if she finds us…she may win."

He felt Krad grow uneasy. His encounter with the artwork had obviously been scarring, although Satoshi had not been conscious through all of it. He was not entirely certain as to what had happened between the two, but by the way Krad had shifted nervously within him he knew that it was nothing good.

"_What is your point?_"

"We need—_you_ need Risa. The power she gave you tonight alone broke through the Mystic's magic. She is essential." In him the monster stirred. In his heart he cursed himself for referring to her as some object or simple asset.

"_You speak a solid truth,_" he whispered. And then, "_But why are you advocating for my using her? Her presence, alone, is enough to draw me out. Her proximity and her existence feed mine. If she gives me too much power…I may become strong enough to overcome you_."

Did Satoshi know that? Of course he knew, but he didn't care. He understood the dangers that Risa now held over him, but they were obsolete. He was willing to take the risk.

"So be it then. Just help me save her."

There was a pause, a low, rueful laugh, and then Satoshi felt himself rejuvenate from within. Every pain suddenly eased away, every ache disappeared. His head sobered itself and his stamina rekindled. His shoulders no longer stung and his breathing was no longer labored. He was healed.

"_Go then, silly hero. Save your Maiden; I won't even threaten to appear any more tonight. But know that, beyond this evening, I will use her to become your end. Be certain of that._"

There was no time for a reply. In the instant that he could Satoshi bounded towards Risa's body, skidding along the damp sand and sea to her side. She was soaking wet, her back and legs coated in sand, her pale skin reflected in the glowing light of the horn clasped in her fingers.

"Risa. Risa, can you hear me?" He placed a hand on her cheek and bent low to her chest, listening for her heart. It was beating but, surprisingly, slowly. "Risa?"

"Hmm…"

In one, fluid motion Satoshi had snaked his arms under her half-naked frame and lifted her in his arms, the horn held to her stomach. He marched her away from the water and back to where he, himself, had laid, picking up his jacket and wrapping her in it. Her clothes had been swallowed by the greedy tide.

"Krad," he said firmly. "Give me wings."

They came as they did before, although the monster actually made the effort to suppress the pain to a dull ache. Satoshi felt the obstructions flex and he beat them against the wind, rising them both into the air and away from the shadow consumed beach. Above them only the stars shone in the endless, black sky.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I know this chapter is short, but the next one should be up much sooner, probably in the upcoming week. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed.**


	17. Nor Fragile Hearts To Feel

**Chapter Seventeen — Nor Fragile Hearts To Feel**

'…fickle as the wind, as transparent as water, hearts of glass are so fragile and easy to break, so that the shards are fine enough to pass through the eye of a needle…'

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When Risa woke up she found herself not on the darkened beach, not in the massacred museum and not in her own room.

She was in a different bedroom, one small and cozy, where the walls were bare of any adornment. It was dark save for the single, flickering flame of a candle on a bedside table near her head. She blinked and looked towards the window, where the drapes had been thrown open and no moonlight shone through.

No moonlight…

She breathed in and shifted a little in the soft bed, surprised by how terribly cold and itchy she was. Moving slowly and quietly, she rose to a sitting position and let the thin blanket fall from her shoulders, exposing to her a shadowed, half-naked body covered in bristling sand.

"Risa…"

She screamed and whirled about, pressing herself against the nearby wall, her knees hunched close to her chest. Her movement had caused the feeble flame to dance dangerously on its wick, sending the shadows to sway around the room and moving Satoshi's face in and out of the light.

He was sitting along the far wall on the carpet, his long legs drawn up and his elbows resting on his knees. He still wore the white shirt and uniform trousers from the museum and his glowing, blue eyes were fully visible through the absence of his glasses.

He had said her name quietly and kindly, an attempt at trying to not frighten her that had produced the exact opposite result. Risa squinted at him through the dark, the blanket clutched around her.

"Sa-Satoshi?"

Before he could even reply she had leapt off the bed and knelt in front of him, her hands reaching out and finding his face. He pulled in a quick breath, surprised by how cold her fingers were.

"Satoshi, are you okay? Are you still hurt? The last thing I remember was you lying on the beach, and you were in pain--,"

"I'm not in pain anymore," he said quietly, his eyes straying upward toward the ceiling. He reached out a hand for the blanket she had unknowingly flung to the floor and draped it around her shoulders, closing it beneath her chin. Risa looked down, gasped and withdrew her frozen fingers from his face, clutching the fabric closed, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh, uh…"

"You collapsed on the beach," Satoshi went on, sparing her the embarrassment of responding to him. "I tried bringing you to your house but there was no one there, and the doors were locked. So I brought you back to my apartment."

She looked up and around his simple room. "This is your apartment?"

"Yes."

"Why is there a candle lit?"

"The power's gone out through half of the city."

"Oh." She looked intently into his face. "Satoshi, is it because of that--,"

"You can take a shower here," he interrupted, grasping her shoulders gently and raising both of them to their feet. "And I've laid out some warm clothes for you to wear. You'll get sick if you walk around like that."

Risa couldn't help but smile sheepishly. "How modest am I, right? An awkward girl in a boy's apartment in nothing but her underwear."

"Risa." She dropped her smile in light of his quiet sobriety. "Quickly. Before you get sick."

She stared at him for a long time, the silence stretching between them like a taut chord, just waiting to snap. He didn't move and neither did she, and around them the shadows continued to dance.

"I'll be quick," she replied quietly, finally breaking their shared gaze. He nodded and let her leave the room.

-------------------------------

Satoshi paced about his living room, dressed in a clean shirt and trousers, his shadow flickering on three different walls from the fickle light of five candles splayed about the area. The power outage had been just another nuisance to deal with, and one that had tied in so horrifically well with everything else. When he had deposited Risa in his room and went into the basement of the building to check on the fuse box, he had found the entire underground level in ruins, the fuse box nothing more than rusted metal and frayed, decaying wire.

No doubt the work of the Mystic's Dream.

The Mystic's Dream.

That godforsaken artwork. He was only too glad that it had been imprisoned once more, more proud of Risa Harada than she'd ever know. If it weren't for her the possessed artwork would have certainly found them and resumed its hideous, mind-twisting torture. Whatever the Mystic wanted of him was beyond his understanding, and Dark had taken the journal that would have certainly explained a lot. But he couldn't think of that now. As long as** Silence** remained in the safe in his bedroom he would be spared any more visits from the haunting siren.

From down the hall he heard the shower shut off. Satoshi blew out a breath and forced himself to sit down, knowing that pacing was only making him more anxious. He was glad the water hadn't turned off, although it must have been strange for her to be standing in the dark.

He ran a hand through his already tousled hair and sighed. After his little basement discovery he had trudged back upstairs and went to his room to where the unconscious Risa lay. He had healed her as best he could, once again drawing on Krad's power. It had amazed him how the monster was keeping to his word, letting Satoshi do what he must without so much as a blink in his direction. But it did little to ease his mind, for he knew that the parasite was probably planning on something morbidly terrifying for the future.

In the distance he could hear a siren wailing through the streets, the officers still attempting to find Dark or maybe even Krad; futile efforts. Satoshi fleetingly wondered why Saehara hadn't called him for instructions, but then he remembered that he had lost his phone sometime during the night. Unconsciously he glanced towards the landline even though he knew it couldn't ring with the power outage; nothing within five blocks was working because of the power outage. Maybe he was just searching for a distraction.

Against his will he thought of how she had looked in his bedroom, worry trained on her face as she inspected him, her half-clad frame far too close for comfort. But what should have been a most uncomfortable situation had been nuked out by the events of the night, the prospect of having almost died multiple times banishing any indecent thoughts Satoshi might have had. Not to mention that he was a purebred gentlemen.

Nevertheless, it would be much easier on him when she was properly dressed.

But then he heard the bathroom door open, followed by footsteps and the growing light approached the living room as she carried the candle he had given her. Glancing cautiously out the window—purely out of a paranoia bred from insomnia—Satoshi pulled in a deep breath and looked up as Risa entered the room.

He nearly blanched.

He never knew a girl could look so damn attractive in men's clothing.

Everything was far too long on her, betraying how petite she was in comparison to his height and stature. The grey sleeves passed over her knuckles and his trousers puddled around her feet. Her hair was wet and hung around her shoulders, darkening the fabric, and her face was flushed from the heat of the bathroom.

Satoshi swallowed a lump that had been forming in his throat and looked away.

Despite Krad's promise, Satoshi feared he wouldn't even last the bloody night.

---------------------------------

They stared at each other for long time, brown eyes on blue, from across the room. Risa tugged absently on her shirt, the cotton soft against her freshly scrubbed skin. But although she was now sand free and had dressed all her small cuts and scrapes with the First Aid kit that Satoshi had given her, Risa's mind was still a massive mess of mucked thoughts and ideas. She bore her gaze into his, beseeching him for the truth, wanting nothing but for him to talk and to tell her everything--…

"Good, you're dressed," he finally said, although his usually smooth baritone was somewhat ragged. "Come, we'll have to walk a ways to find a pay phone that works, and then I can call you a ride that will take you home, or wherever--,"

"What?" She had run across the room to him and he had gotten to his feet, taking a surprised step back. "What are you talking about?"

"The power's out and my phone--,"

"I don't care about the stupid phone!" She grabbed onto his sleeve, much like a child in a tantrum. "Satoshi, I don't want to go home! I won't go home until you tell me what happened. You promised me at the museum, or did you forget?"

She watched as he closed his eyes in what she thought was annoyance as he carefully took hold of her wrist and forced her hand away from his arm. "I remember," he said curtly. "But you must realize that the circumstances have changed."

"No, they haven't! I asked you to tell me the truth when I'd ask for it, and you gave me your word that you would."

He opened his eyes and locked her gaze with his own. "It is late, and you need rest--,"

"Oh, bullshit!" she cried, surprising him as well as herself. "I'm perfectly fine and so are you. You're just trying to run away again!"

"No," he replied vaguely. "I am not. You wouldn't understand the situation."

She grabbed his arm again in earnest. "I could if you'd tell me," she said, losing the strength in her voice in light of his closed off manner. She couldn't believe that he was pushing her away _again,_ after all they had been through during the night. "Don't think you can glaze all this over as just a dream, because I know it wasn't. This was all real."

"Precisely. And because it was real you must know that it is also really dangerous. You cannot be involved--,"

"You're involved," she quipped. He couldn't help grit his teeth, fighting his frustrations.

"It's my problem, Harada-san, not yours."

"And there you go again with the honorifics," she shouted, throwing up her hands. "A moment ago it was 'Risa' and now it's 'Harada-san'? You're going to make me go insane if you don't stop swaying back and forth all the time!"

"That's the problem, _Harada-san_: you will go insane because I can't stop swaying. This is how all my nights are, and if I let you get involved then you'll surely lose your mind…like me," he added absently, passing his hand over his eyes. He hadn't yelled, but the force in his tone was just as potent as yelling.

"Aren't I already involved?" she asked. "Or was diving head first into the freezing ocean to get a horn just a pass time for me?"

"You didn't have to get it," he replied. "I didn't want you to. I was going to--,"

"Oh, yes. You, who were in perfect condition, were going to swim out to sea. Yes, that makes perfect sense." She backed away a few steps and sat along the arm of the sofa. "What is it, Satoshi? What, is there some sort of test I still need to pass to prove that I can 'handle the truth'?"

Satoshi looked up and frowned, not amused. "No."

"Then what else can I do that will force you to tell me what is going on?" She watched as he stared at her for a long time. That stare, that analytical stare. She didn't like it, to be truthful, but it was who Satoshi was, suspicious of everything.

"Why do you care so much?" he suddenly asked, surprising her by the underscoring of anger in his voice. It was the same growl he had used back at the museum. "Why do you care about the things that have to do with me?"

She started to open her mouth, thought a moment, and then closed it again. She waited, then started once more. "You're still asking that after all this time." It wasn't a question but an observation. The responding flicker of daring in his eyes told her that she was right. "I said it before, Satoshi: I am your friend and I care about _you_, not just the things that have to do with you." She wanted him to understand that she wasn't there because she had ended up there, but had chosen to be there. Not just because she had a crush on him, but because she truly did worry; she didn't want it to be a confession of love but a confession of worry.

He needed someone to worry about him.

"Satoshi." She got up from the couch and walked over to him. This time she was rewarded with him keeping his stand, allowing her to approach his side. "You need to tell me. Back at the beach you kept muttering about trying to save me--,"

"That's exactly my point," he hissed. "I'm trying to save you, and in order for me to do that I need you to get as far away from me as possible."

But Risa did not budge. "What I was going to say was that, if you truly wanted to save me, then helping me to be aware of everything is the best way."

He turned and looked down at her, half of his face in shadow, the other half illuminated in pale golden light, succeeding in making him look very weary and ghostly. "Why are you so accepting of all this? Shouldn't you be frightened and afraid? Or disbelieving? Or something?"

"Should I, really? Someone like me, who reads Tarot cards and interprets dreams?" Her eyes strayed to a minute cut beneath his left eye and she absently reached up to touch it.

"Risa, don't!" He had cried at her touch, stepping free from her, gasping as if he'd been burned. He stared at her incredulously, his face contorting in confused outrage, although the effect succeeded in only making him look more commanding and, if possible, more handsome. "You say things just to say them and it doesn't make sense! You don't care about me, how could you? After everything I've done tonight? After everything you've seen? After you witnessed me turn into—into--,"

He couldn't go on, shaking his head in shame and gritting his teeth, suppressing his anger as best he could. The flames of the candles had been thrown into a frenzy at his tirade, but now they were settling as the master of the house calmed himself. At first Risa stared at him in disbelief, wondering what had coaxed him to suddenly explode in such a un-Satoshi like manner. But then she realized…in the way he had said everything so desperately…in the way he had been hesitant to name the monster that he had transformed into…

"Oh, Satoshi," she breathed, rubbing her forehead and smiling weakly. "You think…." They both sighed and looked up at one another. Risa couldn't help but look very, very sad. "You think I'd be afraid of you?" she asked. "Or…or detest you? Or hate you?"

"Why not?" he replied lowly. He wasn't even going to try and deny it. "You saw for yourself what a selfish, hideous thing I became."

"No, I don't," she snapped. "I don't because you didn't. Whatever it was that you transformed into—this Krad—it was painful, and I could tell. But he saved me back there; you saved me back there. How could I think my savior was hideous?"

"You've got it wrong," he grumbled, staggering backward and hitting the wall, only to slide down and onto the floor. "You're choosing to remember things that you wanted to be there. You're being too nice."

She frowned at him. "Too nice? That doesn't even make sense."

"I know it doesn't," he moaned, hanging his head. "That's why I'm getting a headache." He ran both hands through his hair and rubbed his neck, all the while staring at the floor. Risa, steeling herself as well, walked over to him and stood before him, staring down at his slumped form. She could have laughed. She didn't even know what they were fighting about.

"You don't make any sense," he said, his voice muffled as he spoke to the floor. "I never understood why you insisted on being my friend. I never understood."

"You didn't?" Maybe he wasn't as clever as everyone thought him to be, if he didn't know that she had fallen head over heels for him.

"No."

"Well, that's your fault then, because I think I've made it perfectly clear."

He looked up as she knelt down in front of him, his mouth curved into a frown at her brevity. She sat down on the floor between his knees, leaning forward attentively, looking like such a small child in her huge garments.

"There is a thing called sympathy, Hiwatari, and another called pity. I have neither for you. There is also envy, which I also don't have. And then there is the plain truth of being fake, which I am not." She tilted her head to the side. "That day in the orchard, when I bumped into you…do you remember? You talked about being alone so naturally, as if you preferred it. But I can tell that's not true."

"Can you now?"

"Yes. Solitude can be a good thing; I learned that from watching you. But too much of it leads to loneliness, and that's never a good thing. That's why, even though you say you're always detached, you became friends with Niwa." His silence coaxed her on. "And it's why you let my sister and me walk with you on the beach, or let us talk to you on our way to school."

His eyes seemed distant. "You say it confidently, as if you're certain."

"I am."

"How can you be?"

"Because I--…." _I like you_,but she couldn't even make herself say it; she was so embarrassed. Even after everything that had happened, she was still such a little schoolgirl. "I've been watching you, and you think you wear a blank mask all the time, but sometimes that falls."

His eyes narrowed at her but not in an angry fashion. "You're a handful," he finally said, being more blunt than what she knew him to be. She laughed lightly and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Riku says that to me sometimes, too, so I suppose I am." But when she looked back up at him his expression had softened completely, twisting at her heart.

"You'll find your worry may be wasted on me," he muttered. She shrugged.

"Maybe. Or maybe not. Either way, I'm still willing to give it…if you need it. If you need someone to worry when you're gone, or miss you when you've left, or say 'hello' when you come back, then I volunteer." Her eyes glanced around the empty, darkened living room, betraying to horrific fact that he really was very alone. She brought her eyes back to his and smiled. "And it's because I'm volunteering that doesn't make it a waste."

------------------------------

She smiled at him and it was nearly his undoing. To think that she could sympathize with him without seeming to pity his situation. She was just accepting of him and that was it. No tears shed for a sad childhood or past, but rather a promise to be there for the future; a promise of stability.

Someone to worry about him, and to miss him, and to be there when he came back…

He hadn't had someone like it…ever…

Satoshi was suddenly acutely aware of her knee near his thigh and her eyes on his face, and he felt the telltale electricity crackle through his nerves. At first he tried to lean back and away from her, but the wall pressed into his shoulder blades. His breathing was becoming rapid. His mind was shutting down.

Did it make him weak?

Yes, it did. But he had never claimed to be strong.

Without even thinking he leaned forward and closed the distance between them, their lips connecting in a kind exchange. It was completely different from the fiery collision back at the museum; the embodiment of everything it hadn't been. This was a kiss between a shy, inexperienced boy and a delicate little girl. This was a kiss of breath and light, so sweet and tender in every aspect; a kiss of undiluted gratitude. It was slow and unhurried, soaking in the moment.

And it wasn't until he felt Risa's hand lay against his chest did he realize what he was doing. He had misinterpreted her touch and felt disgusted with himself for taking advantage of the situation. She was vulnerable, and he had stupidly assumed that her vulnerability meant something.

Satoshi forced himself to push her away, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, the heat rushing through his veins. He cursed himself inwardly, hating himself for being a scoundrel, a worthless rogue, a horrible vagabond. He shook his head frantically, sputtering.

"I'm sorry, Risa, I shouldn't have--,"

But Risa had swatted his arms away forcibly and reached forward with glassy eyes, twisting her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him towards her once more, her gaze on his mouth. "Damn it, Satoshi," she breathed. "Yes, you should."

This time he felt his stomach practically explode as he half fell onto her, one hand wrapping around her back and the other bracing himself along the floor as she kissed him, her hands tugging him closer than he already was. He couldn't understand it, but damn him if he was going to fight it.

"Risa," he mumbled, pulling away from her only the slightest bit, breathing so hard he was feeling light-headed. He was flushing. Embarrassing as it was, he was blushing horribly. "Risa, I'm not--,"

"You're not shutting up," she gasped, and she tugged again, pulling him back to her taste.

-----------------------------

Sheesh, but she was being forward. Although, to be truthful, she couldn't care less.

Maybe it was the fact that he had saved her life so many times during the night, or that he had cared for her like some modern-day white knight. Maybe it was the need to replay the kiss that had happened at the museum, or maybe her way of saying thank you. Or maybe it was because he had covered her with a blanket when she was in nothing but her under things, or the way he had smiled at her back at school, before he left for the classroom with that other girl. Or maybe it was because she remembered how he had been asleep in the car, or how he had looked in a uniform.

Or maybe it was because he had kissed her just now, igniting a scalding flame inside of her, dizzying her to the brink of foolishness bred from too many moments apart.

Whatever it was, whatever was fueling her, it was potent, and Satoshi himself could only quell it.

He kept up the guise of being reluctant, but she smiled as she felt his arm tighten around her waist. She strengthened her hold on his shirt, although it wasn't really possible for him to get any nearer.

He kissed her back with as much earnest as she was giving him, and it made her giggle against her will. Cool, quiet Satoshi Hiwatari wasn't so cool and quiet after all. She could feel his hand near her lower back, his touch making her shiver even through the barrier of clothing. She could discern every one of his lean fingers; fingers made for painting artwork. One of her hands traveled to his neck and he gripped her closer, tickling her in the side. She suddenly broke their contact and let out a laugh, gasping at the sensation. But she had also shoved forward with her hands and slammed him into the wall, causing him to hiss painfully.

"Oh my god! I'm sorry!" But her apology was tainted by her laugh as she reached forward and cradled his head. He winced and rubbed his skull where it had struck, frowning at her in the dark.

"Ow," he replied blandly. She couldn't help but smile widely. It may not have been an ideal movie moment, but, then again, they weren't in a movie. They were real people, and things weren't perfect for real people.

"I'm so sorry," she cooed again, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You tickled me and I got scared!"

"My fault then," he murmured, keeping his head bowed. She lowered her head and tried to see his face, wondering why he was hiding. But then she noticed the redness of his ears and her smile only widened. He was blushing something horrid.

"Satoshi?" she asked lightly.

"Hmm?" he moaned, rubbing his face with both hands. She fingered the back of his head, her touch mingling with his silken hair.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. He lowered his hands then and, after a moment's hesitation, reached for her wrists and drew them away, holding her right hand to his lips and kissing her palm delicately. It amazed Risa how such a small gesture could render her so bloody helpless.

"Don't be," he replied. He was still for a moment then, holding her hand poised by his face, his eyes distant as he stared at a spot on the floor. Risa blinked at him and waited, unsure of what was going on. Around them the candles suddenly flickered so violently that they threatened to go out.

But then Satoshi had pulled down her sleeve and touched her wrist before pressing her fingers to his face. Risa, shivering at his touch, started to say something but was caught off guard as he leaned forward and claimed her mouth with his once more in a kiss far deeper than any they had previously shared. It traveled all the way through her body and down to her toes, and her eyes fluttered closed in the tingling feeling.

He reached up and cradled her head, pushing her backward. She threw back her hands to brace herself on the floor, her elbows bending only slightly as he pressed in towards her. Soon Satoshi's kisses weren't just on her lips but along her jaw line and on her neck, his hands roving over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her eyes flew open at the foreign sensation and she giggled into his hair, both out of surprise and sensitivity to his touch.

"Satoshi?" she breathed. He was trailing his lips along her throat in a very distracting manner. He moaned into her, his voice vibrating along her skin. Risa let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "What are you doing?"

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Whatever it was, it certainly _was not_ his idea.

Despite the strange feelings Risa Harada induced into his otherwise isolated nature, he would have never mustered up the gall to…well, to be doing what he was doing at the moment.

He was fully aware of it though, that was for damn certain. He could taste her skin, breath in her aroma and feel her shiver at his touch. It was enough to render him so embarrassed that he'd probably fall unconscious, but he didn't stop. He didn't stop because it wasn't him.

When he had hit his head his eyes had gone suddenly black and he had felt sick, a much more dramatic reaction to an insignificant bump. He had tried rubbing the blackness from his eyes but to no avail. That was when he had seen it, a glimmer of a memory in his mind that he couldn't ever remember having. It was fleeting, like a whisper, but it had definitely been there. He had been looking through the eyes of someone else as they took hold of a woman's hand and kissed the palm.

But then Satoshi realized that he had done the exact same thing to Risa. He had stopped, frozen and confused. Had it been a memory or had it been real?

The milliseconds ticked by and then his vision clouded once more, again showing him a memory that wasn't his.

Someone—someone that wasn't him but was moving through his body—was caressing someone and kissing them, the need to be closer to her near unbearable. Something relevant to a mixture of love and lust swelled in Satoshi's chest and he wanted nothing more then to reach in and tear it out; it hurt so much.

But then he realized that he wasn't just seeing it in his mind but he was doing it again, kissing Risa in the same way. His cheeks flushed and he felt his stomach drop to the floor, but he couldn't stop. He was kissing her throat and she had muttered his name. He tried to reply but his brain was mucked and her scent was intoxicating. He had hoped she would push him away, break the trance he was in and snap him to his senses.

A clouded head and an unknown memory…

He really was losing his mind…

He raised his head and captured her lips once more, fire spurring him on. She gasped prominently this time, suddenly surprised. She pushed him forcibly away and stared at him, her eyes uncertain.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered, breathless. He shrugged, not much caring for words, wanting only to continue.

"I don't know," he muttered. He leaned in again and Risa went momentarily slack against him, but then she seemed to regain her determination and broke the kiss once more, this time pushing him back with both hands. She wasn't angry, just confused.

"This isn't you," she said, frowning. "I don't know what it is."

"It is me," he said, not really understanding what he was saying, but she shook her head.

"I know what kissing you is like," she snapped. "And this isn't you. What's going on?"

"I don't know," he truthfully explained, brow furrowed even as he bent towards her neck again. It wasn't him. He knew it wasn't him. But then, who was it?

"Satoshi, are you okay?" she asked, cupping his face as he branded her neck with his lips. He shook his head against her shoulder.

"No, I don't know. I'm seeing someone else's memory. I'm acting out someone else's memory."

"Not yours?" She tried pushing him delicately back to the wall, but he wrapped his arms around her and took her with him, dragging her onto his lap. He stared up at her, eyes unseeing and yet perfectly focused.

"No, not exactly. Mine…and yet not mine at all." He placed a kiss at the hallow of her throat and she laughed outright, far too ticklish for her own good.

"Are you sure?" she teased. He stared up at her, incredulous.

"Of course I am! I would never--…." But then he trailed off as she stared down at him, grinning knowingly.

"You'd never?"

He tore his eyes away. Fine, maybe he would, but not like this. Not right then.

"Could you help me up?" he asked quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his neck. With a sigh Risa rose up off of him, leaning in momentarily to peck him on the cheek. He let her.

When she handed him up he swayed a little on his feet, his vision blacking out again.

"Wait a minute," he whispered, throwing out a hand to steady himself against the wall. He pressed the heel of his other palm to his forehead. At his side he could feel Risa's hand on his chest, calming him.

"What do you see?"

"I see…white wings." And he could. They were wrapping around him, extending from his back and fluttering in a nonexistent wind. A strand of hair blew in front of his eyes and he saw that it was blonde. He looked at his hand and saw that they weren't his but Krad's.

And then he looked to where Risa stood but he screamed and jumped back because it was no longer Risa standing there but The Mystic's Dream, her hair dancing around her lithe frame in the pale moonlight in the middle of a beautiful garden, her eyes staring up at him, her hand over his heart.

Satoshi blinked and it was gone. Risa's wide eyes asked the question that didn't need asking, and he answered her without thinking to answer.

"It was Krad's memory," he said. "That was Krad's memory of the Mystic."

---------------------------------

Wiz hadn't made it to the Niwa household. He had cowered halfway through the journey and had finally given into his fear and touched down in a park nearly four miles from the house. After he had carefully set down Daisuke and the journal he had transformed back into a tiny rabbit and hid beneath his master's limp arm, too afraid of the Mystic's Dream to even look at it. Moments had passed for a long time before Daisuke suddenly wretched, coughed and opened his eyes weakly.

He stared up at the canopy of black night and stars above him, unseeing. His body throbbed as if he'd been stabbed with thousands of knives, and his head swam with nausea. Inside of him he couldn't even feel Dark.

With a forced effort Daisuke turned his head and saw the glass sculpture lying on its side in the grass, delicate hand reached out directly for him. He stared at the miniature face and realized that the Mystic's expression was one of deepest and desperate sorrow.

"Wiz."

The tiny rabbit poked its head out and hopped onto Dai's chest, staring down at him, his floppy ears perked. Dai took a few breaths before he tried speaking again.

"I need…to go…"

"Kyuu." He had tilted his head to the side inquisitively. Dai gasped out his last words.

"To Hiwatari's." He stared at his small companion. "Please Wiz…bring all three…to Hiwatari. You remember where…"

With a furtive glance back towards the Mystic, Wiz leapt into the air and transformed into black wings once more, lifting his master, the journal and the artwork into the sky again. He was terrified of the Mystic's Dream, that was clear, but Daisuke had asked him, and so he had obeyed.


	18. The Wind, The Rain, The Fire, The Sea

**Chapter Eighteen — The Wind, The Rain, The Fire, The Sea**

"**You can be generic and say 'the wind howls, the rain pours, the fire burns and the sea drowns'. Or you can be wonderful and say 'the wind is calming to the flustered, the beauty of the rain is how it falls, fire is a tantalizing mistress, and nothing is more predictably unpredictable as the sea'." - **_**J.B.**_

Satoshi didn't quite stagger, because someone of his level of dignity never really staggered, but he did take an awkward step back and touched the wall for balance, grateful, if embarrassingly, that Risa was next to him to hold his arm.

"What was Krad's memory?" he mused out loud, feeling extremely dizzy and very, very, _very_ confused. "I need to sit down."

Immediately Risa guided him to the sofa and sat him down; if she were extremely worried she kept it hidden, refusing to utter even the tiniest sound. She seemed completely intuitive to him, though, her demeanor anxious of his every movement. He slumped back and let his head hang, the frown he was wearing etched tightly between his eyes.

Krad involved with the Mystic's Dream? _Romantically_?What in the world did that mean?

"It doesn't make sense," he whispered to himself. He felt the cushions near him sink and Risa's face loomed into his vision.

"What doesn't make sense? What happened?"

But he didn't answer her. He didn't mean to ignore the worry in her voice, but his mind was racing through possibilities, analyzing through his own mental database, passing over any information that he had gathered that might help him understand.

The Mystic came before the Black Wings; the Hikari clan was nearly completely wiped out after the fatal accident, and the heritage was lost. All previous artworks were scattered across the globe; for all he knew neither Krad nor Dark had any immediate contact with their fellow artworks.

But that was just it, 'for all he knew' couldn't be much if this sort of bombshell decided to drop itself. But how could Krad and the Mystic have a history?!

"Satoshi."

"What?" He snapped out of his inner thoughts and blinked at her. She was tugging at his hand, his fingers having unconsciously curled into fists, his knuckles turning stark white with the effort, his veins showing the strain. He breathed in deeply and relaxed his hand. "I didn't even notice."

"I could tell." She glanced behind him towards the kitchen area. "Do you mind?" she asked, nodding her head towards it. He glanced back and nodded in turn.

"No, go ahead."

She rose to her feet and slipped passed him, her fingers trailing absently through his hair, delicately skimming the area he had hit against the wall. Satoshi held his breath and closed his eyes, cursing his rampaging heartbeat. She had kissed him and he had kissed her, and still something as insignificant as her fingertips made him jumpy.

A small part of him wished this night had never happened; he already had to deal with Krad, now the Mystic's Dream. And, on top of it all, he had to come to terms with the likes of Risa Harada? He wasn't sure he had the capacity to take it all in, let alone face it all down.

Because—and this was a complication he was adamant to avoid for as long as possible—what would happen beyond tonight, at school the next day, when they were forced into the same classroom together, into the same school activities, with Krad ready to pounce on any opportunity to create havoc? This was the trial by fire he had always wanted to avoid, and here he was, pushing himself deeper and deeper into the blackened pit.

Sometimes he felt like a complete idiot.

"Good thing the gas hasn't been affected," she said from the kitchen. He heard the telltale click of his stove and then the whirring as the flame came on. But Satoshi kept his eyes forward. If he looked at her he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"Krad, the Mystic, Krad, the Mystic," he repeated lowly, rubbing his neck in exasperation. He didn't suspect there was a huge piece of the puzzle missing, but he had no doubt that it was significant, whatever it was. He just had to put the pieces together properly. Damn him, why wasn't he able to do this anymore?! "One moment," he said politely to Risa. He could feel her eyes on him as he got to his feet and strode for the hallway, towards his office. Before he left the room he glanced in her direction. She was standing before the stove, about to set a kettle on the flame. She looked even more worried. "I'll be back," he added in assurance and, because he couldn't help it, he offered her a small yet genuine smile.

She smiled back.

--------------------------------

Risa set the kettle on the stove and stepped away. More than anything she wanted to follow him and find out what he was doing, but there was something stronger that she felt for Satoshi that trumped her attraction to curiosity: she respected him too much, and so she stayed in the kitchen.

She distractedly ambled towards the window, tugging back the curtain to look outside. It was very dark on the street down below, the shadows only slightly alleviated by the streetlamps in the distance and the flickering candles in the room where she stood. She could see her reflection in the glass, see the telltale signs of no sleep and stress in her face. Risa looked at her neck and then tugged down her collar to see her collarbone; everything was too pronounced. She realized she hadn't eaten right in at least a few days, and that worried her. She made a mental note to convince Riku to cook her something delicious the next day.

She touched her finger to her throat and then paused, staring at it in the glass. The aging pain she had felt in the museum had felt so absolute, but she couldn't even detect a trace of it now.

More magic, she figured. But good magic, this time.

Her own hand slipped down to her chest and she tried pressing her palm into her sternum. The Mystic had been able to do it to Satoshi. Her hand had been inside his chest, right over his heart, and she had been singing to him…singing the most beautiful song. It had been strange, like watching a movie. Things like that didn't happen in real life; glowing, floating girls didn't attack white-winged angels, and phantom thieves didn't fly against living artwork.

Fleetingly Risa thought of earlier that day, when she had wondered so deeply about Satoshi's life. Who would have thought, that of all things, he would be in a whirlwind as glittering as this? Of all the thousands of different scenarios one could have come up with, this was by far the most amazingly far-fetched. And it made Risa smile.

How amazing. How utterly amazing. And why would he think she would be afraid? Anyone with an imagination could clearly see that there was more awe than fear in everything.

Something flickered against the skyline and Risa pulled her attention from her thoughts and squinted into the glass. She pressed her face closer, cupping her hands over her eyes. There was definitely something out there; it was still extremely far away, but whatever it was, it was unstable, flopping across the sky uncontrollably. She watched it tentatively, wondering what it was and flinching slightly as it seemed to rapidly descend and collide onto the roof of a building. She hoped that, whatever it was, it was all right.

She would have stared at it for longer if she hadn't heard the rustle of papers and the sound of footfalls as Satoshi reentered the room. She turned to see him stride in, a hefty pile of file folders in one arm as he scrutinized a few leaflets in his other. He went straight for the kitchen counter, laying his folders down neatly as he frowned down at the paper, squinting in the dim light. Risa noted that he seemed too tall for the counter, his lanky torso towering over the stone surface. She also noted that he looked almost too mature with all those manila folders laid before him.

In her mind she said his name, but he surprised her by looking up as if in reply. She smiled at him from the window, lowering her hand away from her chest.

"Something wrong?" he asked evenly, his eyes flicking momentarily to the window and then back onto her. She shook her head.

"No, I was just staring. Really." She moved back into the kitchen to emphasize her point. She didn't want him to worry needlessly. "Find anything?" she asked, trying for lightness. She nodded to his files as she moved closer while still remaining on the other side of the counter. She didn't trust herself to be too close to him, and instead of finding embarrassment in it she found an affectionate humor.

He met her question with an honest sigh, glancing down at his files with a sort of nonchalant disappointment. "No," he said. "Nothing new, at least." He picked up a folder and then placed it back on the counter without even really looking at it. "Nothing helpful." Risa leaned against the stone, staring up at him.

"Why is she after you?" she asked bluntly. He met her gaze and she found no coldness there.

"I don't know," he answered. "I have theories, but I always have theories, and they're often wrong. But that's only one of a thousand questions that still need to be answered." He ran a stiff hand through his hair and bowed his head, trying to hide the anxiety he felt.

"Questions are frustrating," Risa agreed, but then caught herself in an un-intentioned accusation. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. I just meant in general…not that I was saying my questions were…frustrating. To say, you know, that you might be…frustrating…." She grimaced at herself as he met her gaze. She sounded like a bumbling moron. So she was immensely grateful when Satoshi only nodded in understanding once, pushing aside his papers and rubbing absently at his tired eyes.

"I wanted to tell you that you're actually right, and I'm wrong," he said. Risa's eyes narrowed, not so much in suspicion as it was anticipation.

"Come again?"

"You're right."

Risa found a darkened triumph in that that she didn't voice. To be right where Satoshi was wrong must have been a great accomplishment. She figured not many people could use such a boast. "Am I?"

"You are." He breathed in deeply. "It would be beyond careless of me not to tell you what exactly is going on," he explained. "You were right, you are involved and, what with what's happened tonight, deeply so. To send you off without any information is reckless and meaningless and the most it would do would be to open you to danger without any means of defense." He shrugged slightly. "That would be irresponsible on my part."

"It would, would it?" She scratched her neck distractedly. "Then why were you hard pressed to have me go away? Why did you insist that I just leave?" She didn't mean it to sound like she were blaming him of anything, but she would be lying to herself to say that it wasn't just a bit confusing to be constantly contradicted. Satoshi's expression didn't really change, but he was somehow able to emanate a profound aura of guilt.

"I'm not used to this sort of situation," was all he said, but somehow it was enough. It truth, his actions had seemed rational. In every story that followed this kind of plotline, it always seemed chivalrous of the hero to force the girl away; to shove her out of harm's way and out of his perception in order to save her, right? But that never really made sense, because what was the use of ignorance? Where was the chivalry in blindfolding the girl and pushing her into the forest?

"I can understand that then, I guess," she replied. The kettle whistled and Risa tore her gaze away from bright, blazing cerulean to answer its call. She flicked off the flame and lifted the kettle from the stove, setting it down on a cork coaster on the counter. As she let go of the handle a hand reached out to grab her own and she looked up at its owner. His arm was long enough to span the counter between them without him so much as leaning slightly forward.

"I can't tell you everything," Satoshi said solemnly, "but I will explain things. I'll tell you the truth, just in so many words."

Risa smiled at that and nodded, placing her other hand on top of his. His words meant a lot, there was no doubt about that, but he probably was completely unaware of how much more meaning his touch seemed to give. Even though they had shared kisses and embraces, Hiwatari was still, above all else, a very self-reserved person. A comforting touch had never seemed to be bred into his nature, and so to have him reach across the vast expanse of that two foot wide countertop to connect his skin to hers was more of a promise of reassurance than Risa could ever ask for. That, more than his words, made her believe completely in his promise.

"Truth is truth. I don't care how many words you use."

Satoshi pulled his hand away and eased into one of the stools at the counter, leaning forward over his papers. He pulled in a breath.

"What you saw tonight is an artwork called The Mystic's Dream," he began simply. "My ancestors were great artists and they made hundreds of works well-known throughout the world. The Mystic's Dream is one of them."

Risa was the epitome of attentiveness, likewise leaning on the opposite side of the tile. "A living artwork, that's what you said at the museum."

"Yes."

"How?"

"Don't you want to know why?"

At that Risa's brow creased a little and she shrugged. "Most artists are like that, right? To make art that is alive, truly alive, is what any artist would love to accomplish. If the rest of them knew about the magic that your ancestors knew about, then this world would be swarming with artworks coming to life, if they aren't already."

Satoshi merely stared at her, something strange yet warm in his gaze. "That's right," he said quietly, and then to answer her question, "Moonlight. In history the moon and everything to do with it holds a number of mystical and spiritual properties for all nations and cultures. My ancestors researched this and found a way to channel that power into The Mystic's Dream."

Channeling power…was that even possible? Apparently.

"What was she supposed to be?" Risa asked quietly, tugging her sleeves over her hands.

"Beauty, to be frank, sculpted from one manifestation of blown glass." He seemed to deviate from his explanation then because he looked down at his hands and said, "that, in itself, is an amazing and unknown talent on their part. Not unlike ancient treasures known to the world, the technology and precision it would take to fire glass while sculpting it is extraordinary. Add to the fact that there are no physical flaws on the artwork or any semblance of hairline fractures, then you have yourself a pristine and priceless object in hand."

She wondered if he was aware how his tone changed when he talked about art, because she noticed that he didn't _just_ talk about it. His hands, so used to standing still when he spoke, moved every now and then to emphasize the details, and his eyes seemed unfocused and far off, betraying that his attention was not in the room but somewhere else. The only other person she had seen talk about art like that was…well, was Daisuke Niwa, actually.

"That commends her purpose of beauty, though," he continued, his hands going slack once more. "That is why she looks the way she looks, sings as she can and dances in everything that she does. Grace, femininity, loveliness, beauty; that is what she is. They wanted to make something devoted to beauty, to capture onlookers completely. I don't think they realized how dangerous their talent was, though." Behind him a votive candle flickered quite rapidly and Satoshi glanced back at it. "It was locked away after a certain time because things started to get out of control, or so goes the handed down history. Those who did lay eyes on it would become obsessed, along with those who became utterly entranced by her song, and that, along with other incidents of trouble that I've been able to glean from her time era, resulted in my clan locking her away from the world."

Risa's fingers touched the soft cotton of her sleeves, rubbing them between her fingers. "You call her a living artwork," she said. "Does that mean she can feel things?" she asked. "Like us, I mean. Can she touch things and feel when it's cold?"

It was obvious these weren't the questions Satoshi was expecting from her, but he answered her all the same.

"Yes, I suppose. She understands pain, as you saw. There were red diagrams in the basement…"

A girl writhing in pain as red lines slashed burning paths across her angelic skin, all tainted with the ring of her agonized screams. "I remember," she breathed.

"It was an emblem created by my clan to subdue her magic. The diagrams weren't complete, that's why she wasn't completely suppressed, but they did their part, and she felt the consequences."

"So she can touch things and know if something is soft or hard?"

He frowned a little. "Yes."

"So, can she feel emotions?"

"I…I don't know. She's certainly aware of them. With artwork it's hard to tell. I guess, in a philosophical view, all artwork is created with emotions already instilled in them, so, were they to come to life, they'd have a semblance of that feeling, or else an acute awareness to what it is and derive conclusions from there, right?"

There was a short pause and then Risa couldn't help but laugh a little. "Your 'college' is showing."

"What?"

She continued to smile, inwardly slapping herself, and her fellow classmates for that matter, for being so stupid. It was blindingly obvious that Satoshi was far more intelligent than your average middle school student. It was blatant in not just his words but in everything he was.

"Beyond the philosophy, then," she said. "In reality, does she feel?"

He tilted his head inquisitively, genuinely curious on his own part. "Why do you ask that?"

She shrugged, grasping at straws. "Because that would make sense then, wouldn't it? She's been locked up all this time, so if she understood loneliness then I guess it would make sense for that to turn into anger. Not saying that what she did was okay," she added, remembering that the beautiful woman had tried to kill her. "I'm just…well, I'm just saying, is all."

------------------------

Satoshi wondered if Risa knew that, at that moment, she was probably the most understanding victim of a murderess' motives in all of history. Not to mention that she was giving him a whole different outlook on the situation.

"Did you hear her song?" she asked. Satoshi shook his head and stretched out his back as Risa turned to the kettle again. For some reason she seemed accurately aware of where everything was, because in a few moments she had poured them both steaming mugs of green tea. "Her singing was coming from everywhere."

"No, I tried not to."

She looked up at him, impressed. "Didn't you say anyone who heard her song was entranced? You'd have to be strong to ignore it."

"Yes, well, I guess there had to be exceptions." He shook the intended compliment away. "Nothing special."

Risa looked as if she were going to oppose that outlook, but didn't actually say anything out loud. "Well, those of us who did hear it were actually entranced, I have to admit. I didn't really pay attention at first because it was just so soothing, but then I heard the words she was saying, and then her song was just so sad. She said 'love' a lot."

"She can't love," he said automatically, but he wasn't even sure of that, and the revelation was nearly alarming. "She…she can't." Risa pushed a mug towards him and he took it silently, the warmth stinging his fingers, but he didn't pull them away. His mind was racing. "Love is too complex a concept for any sort of artificially intelligent creation. Not even...not even _Krad_ can comprehend it, let alone understand it enough to even consider feeling it. That's just impossible."

And yet…Krad could show anger and hate and malice, all of them strong, profound emotions. Could he then express…perhaps…love? The memory could suggest that he knew the actions, at least.

Across from him Risa was fiddling with her cup, sliding it from one hand to another, her hair falling from behind her ear to obscure her downturn face.

She said, "I think she wants something from you." They're eyes met and she shrugged. "The Mystic wants something from you."

"You mean from Krad."

"Maybe both." Risa took a sip from her tea, her eyes never leaving his face. "I'm just saying…when I came in, it was your chest she was reaching into." She glanced down at his heart and he felt his skin tingle. "That was so scary," she whispered absently. "Like a horror story." He supposed others would have known that now was the right time to pull her into a comforting embrace and ease away her worries, but Satoshi didn't know that and, even if he did, he probably wouldn't have done it. The only real way to ease her worries was through action and protection, and those things gave more of a result than a stiff embrace from him.

"But she responds to Krad, and he to her. And take into account their intimacy--." They both glanced unconsciously towards the door, towards the floor where, only minutes before, they had been tangled together in a rather compromising position. Risa quickly ducked her head and hid a broad smile while he blushed furiously and averted his eyes towards the ceiling. Damn him. Damn him and his red cheeks. "That was Krad's memory, and that was the Mystic I saw. How does that make any sense?"

Risa dragged her sleeve across her eyes and shrugged, forcing the smile from her mouth. "I don't know much about Krad, but I think that's something you'll have to ask him yourself." She bit her lip. "Er, can you do that? Ask him, I mean," she asked tentatively.

He rubbed his chest unknowingly and took a drag from his mug. "I can," he said when he lowered the cup. "The only unknown factor is whether he'll answer me or not." There must have been definite vehemence in his voice, because he knew Risa was itching to ask him questions about that bloody monster, but she raised no such interrogation. He had to admire her for her restraint, though; anyone else would have been bombarding him with frantic questions, (if they hadn't already run from his presence, screaming their heads off in fear), but she was keeping quite level with him and reacting normally.

He didn't know if she was aware as to just how much he appreciated that.

A short pause stretched out between them. It wasn't for lack of words, because they both knew there was a plethora of words that still needed to be said, but more so a lack of grace. How was he supposed to go on explaining things to her? What was the perfect segue? How could he lessen the intensity of his truths, and where was he supposed to begin in the first place?

"Um, I'm sorry to go off topic," she began suddenly, staring into her cup. Satoshi braced himself against the counter, his long arms not really fitting on the stone. "But I…." She hesitated, considering her next words. "I kind of…just…want to make sure that you know," she started. Satoshi raised an eyebrow.

"Know what?"

"That I came tonight not because I'm some mindless fan girl who's stalking you."

Another pause.

"You're not?" He shrugged and glanced down at his hands. "Darn."

Risa smiled widely at that, impressed by his little—if not dry—bout of humor. "I just wanted to find out more about you; about the rest of your life, not just what most of us see at school."

Satoshi nearly stopped breathing at that, his shoulders drooping a little. "You could have asked," he said quietly, and all Risa had to do was let out a haughty 'hmph' to receive a contradictory nod from him. "Okay, I guess I wouldn't have answered."

"You live in a fantastic world," she told him. He didn't agree.

"No, I really don't. There's nothing fantastic about it."

"There's everything fantastic about it," she explained. "But I'm not using it in the sense of everything being pretty rainbows and stage magic. Some things are…frightening. But fantastic, nonetheless."

He rubbed at a knot forming in his neck. He found that he really liked talking with Risa, but she was so much shorter than him, and he had to crane his neck down quite a ways to see her face through that sheet of hair. It was a sweet annoyance.

"If I were to call you strange," he said without thinking, stretching his neck from side to side, "would you find it to be a compliment or an insult?"

She made a face at him but was in no way offended. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're not running away, and I find that strange."

She smirked at him. "I used to _chase_ after Dark, Satoshi. I used to get myself _into_ trouble. Is this any different?"

"Dark wouldn't have hurt you," he replied blandly. She shrugged almost before he finished his sentence, swirling her tea before she drank it.

"Well, I feel safe with you," she answered. "So I don't believe you'll hurt me either. I trust you."

He felt an obligation to tell her she was wrong, that it didn't matter what he wanted and that Krad would likely hurt her far worse in the future, but the surety with how she had said it was so strong that he couldn't find it in himself to prove it false. He wanted it to be true.

"And when I say I trust you," she went on, "I mean also that I trust you're going to tell me about all the _fantastic_ details of your life." Satoshi stared at her for a bit before a grin—an impish grin, so much more rare than a smile to him—tugged at his lips.

"In so many words."

She rolled her eyes dramatically, playfully. "In so many words."

---------------------------------------------------

The ideal course of action after that would have been for Risa to gently settle Satoshi comfortably on the sofa so he could relax and then, hopefully, garner some information from him in a little more than the few words he promised. Risa anticipated the rest of the night to be peaceful, ending in closed eyes and quiet snores, (his in his room and hers in her own back home, of course), all of which would culminate in thoroughly skipping school the next day because, really, were either of them expected to go to school? Certainly not after the battle royale at the museum, the frigid night swim at the beach, the multiple accounts of near death experiences and the prospect of a magical sadist stalking them? No one, _no one_, should ever be expected to endure any other form of hardship beyond that list of activities, were they? Even something as typical and required as school?

Risa thought absolutely not.

No, her plan of action was to finish the evening with Satoshi and then let him fall into much needed sleep and leave him be. Everything done, enough said. She could stand to wait until the next day to bask in the relationship she was making with him.

But, of course, the horribly tormenting hand of Fate gave little concern to what Risa thought would be the rest of the evening. More or less, it decided to kick them both while they were down because, at that wonderfully peaceful and iconic moment of wearied serenity, all Hell seemed to break loose into Satoshi's apartment with a cruel and vengeful relentlessness.

The window Risa had been looking through moments before suddenly imploded on itself, taking with it not only the glass but the wooden frame work, the white-painted pane and the curtain, all of it sailing into the room with an almighty crash. Risa screamed and recoiled into herself, crouching down onto the kitchen tile and throwing her hands over her head. In the breath of a second Satoshi had leapt over the countertop and was kneeling beside her, shielding her from the debris with his body. There was a rumbling into the floor, a pained, human cry that came from neither of them and then the gust of cold wind as the sound of—was that wings?—beat furiously beyond her line of vision.

"What…?! Satoshi! Satoshi, are you okay?" she demanded immediately. It was completely dark, the candles having been forcibly blown out, and she reached out through the shadows to inspect his entire body. Her mind was racing irrationally, forgetting that she had used **Silence** to lock away the moonlight and thinking that it was the Mystic, back again to hurt him. She touched his chest, his face, his arm. Was he whole? Was he hurt?

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted, but she wasn't listening. She was nearly frantic with checking him. He grabbed her hands and caught her attention. "I'm fine," he said, almost frustrated, more endeared.

"Satoshi," she breathed, hoping she was looking at him. "What was that?"

"I don't know. Don't move." He let go of her hands and slipped away, sidling along the kitchen floor to peek into the living room. Risa grabbed for him.

"Be careful!"

"It's fine, stay there…" She refused to even breathe while he separated from her in the darkness. Moments passed and Risa felt suddenly abandoned, even though she knew Satoshi couldn't have been more than a few feet away.

"Satoshi?" she whispered. Nothing, at first. "Satoshi?"

"_Damn it!_"

A groan sounded from the living room and Risa jumped. It wasn't Satoshi's voice.

"Is that a _person_?"

"_No."_ He was back in the blink of an eye, his hands on her arms to keep her from moving. "You can't."

"What just happened? What was that?" There was another groan followed by the all too human gasp of someone in dire pain. "Who is that?!" The sound of wings. The same air rush of beating wings.   
"_Is that Dar--!_"

"Risa!"

---------------------------------------

He hated himself.

No, he hated the situations he was put in more.

No, he hated the world in the state that it existed in, because it was this diabolically tormenting world that refused to ever—_ever_—give him a single moment of true rest.

At that very moment Daisuke Niwa was lying in his living room, having already blasted through the side of the building and uncermoniously shoved his sofa across the room. It was a stroke of good luck that the wind from the impact had extinguished all the candles, or else there would have been an inferno to deal with as well. Instead Satoshi was granted the small compensation of near complete darkness, with the flickering flames gone and no other heavenly light to speak of. Before him Risa was fighting to stand up but he kept her down. Darkness may have been their veil, but soon her eyes would adjust to what feeble glows were coming from the distant streetlamps and the miniscule stars, and then she'd see Dark's wings on Niwa's body…and he couldn't do that to Daisuke.

Dark and Daisuke's secret was their to own to reveal, and he would let them reveal it at their own leisure, especially in regards to a Harada sister.

"Risa, stop."

Her own hands rested on his forearms and he could feel her breath on the skin of his cheek. "Someone is hurt! And I think it's Da--."

"Forgive me," he interrupted. He was glad for their blindness, especially for what he was about to do.

"What--,"

"I'll get you home, and you'll remember everything, so don't worry."

"What?"

"This won't hurt." With careful hands he reached for the outline of her body, tracing his palms caressingly along her ribs and to her waist. He felt her shiver beneath his touch. "Find me tomorrow, at school, but don't act any differently. At the lunch hour, meet me on the roof. We can talk then. I'll explain, I will, I promise. Just…I'm just sorry for this…."

She gripped his sleeves as his hands slid around her, to the small of her back. "Wh-what are you doing?" she breathed raggedly.

Whatever spark of desire he might have felt at her breathless words was dulled with the prospect that he was about to purposely shock her with a blast of his magic, knock her out into unconsciousness again, and then find a way to get her home. But he couldn't do it directly to her head; however faint Krad's hold was Satoshi didn't trust the potency of the magic he was about to summon. He had so little control on Krad's magic, and if he worked directly on her mind he might erase her entire memory, or worse. No…better to just touch the base of her spinal chord, risk less direct damage to her brain.

But even that plan didn't change the fact that he felt guilty for simply forcing her into submission so he could ship her away.

Oh, how he hated this miserable world.

"Tomorrow, the lunch hour, on the roof. I'll get you home." He took a deep breath and then concentrated on regulating the magic. Not too much. He had to make sure he didn't use too much.

Risa finally understood what he meant and she went still, her hands releasing his sleeves, going slack in sad defeat.

"Oh," she said. "Magic?" He knew his silence was enough of an answer. "The night's over then?"

He didn't trust himself to reply. She sat there quietly as he gathered his focus, his mind sharpening itself to its top form, ready to perform a task as challenging mentally for him as it was physically. When he was ready he opened his eyes and sat a little straighter.

"I'll count to three before…. Try not to move when it hits you."

"When it hits me," she was calm of voice.

"Yes."

"Then I should do this before that." Her hands reached through the darkness for his face, her fingers running experimentally over his features. She found his mouth and then dragged him down to her, kissing him sweetly but strongly. Heat flushed his entire body once more, and it took all his discipline to keep his mind focused. She pulled away slowly and he could practically feel her smile: a smile that wasn't so much amusement as it was terribly, terribly sad that the night was ending, and on this note nonetheless. "Krad will be back again, after tonight," she explained needlessly. "So I wanted to take advantage."

He didn't blame her. In the grateful mask of shadows Satoshi leaned back in to where he knew she was and claimed her lips more thoroughly, glad that there was no light. Her arms went around his neck as his hands slipped nimbly beneath her shirt. She gasped at the abruptness of his skin against hers and, before he completely passed out from euphoric embarrassment, he pressed his fingertips into her delicate spine, mumbled a 'one, two, three' against her lips and sparked her with his golden light and then felt her go instantly limp in his arms.

He waited a moment. He didn't trust himself to move right away.

Finally he drew his hands out from her shirt and lifted her in his arms, her head against his shoulder, her face upturned to his neck. Carefully, cautiously, he made his way out of the kitchen and into the tattered living room, where the writhing shadow of black wings was flexing.

"You can rest now, Wiz," he said tiredly. The darkened shadow let out a frantic yet drained 'kyuu' and then sized down into a bouncing black smudge at his feet, exhausted.

Satoshi's vision had begun to adjust to the darkness and he could see the outline of Niwa better now, sprawled unflatteringly on his face on the floor, his limbs splayed about, his moans coming from a pain induced sleep. He shifted Risa's weight and knelt down next to Dai's head, reaching out a hand to check his pulse. It was hardly steady, but racing like mad.

The night, for him, was far from over.

"I'll take care of him," Satoshi said, addressing the little creature. Wiz twitched in relief and nuzzled his knee in appreciation. Satoshi only drew in a long breath and refused to let it out. An unconscious Daisuke on his floor. An unconscious Risa in his arms. A cold wind blowing in from the enormous hole in his wall.

At least he knew that his hate for the world was mutual.

Something hard and pointy, not Wiz's furry head, pressed into his leg. He looked down and cradled Risa's head closer to his chest, leaning over her to get a better look at whatever the object was. Wiz said 'kyuu' again and pushed his treasure into Satoshi's leg once more. It was something rather large and rectangular, and it was very heavy when he reached down to pick it up. The leather bound cover fell open and the sound of whispering pages shifting met his ears.

It was the journal.

------------------------------------------

Daisuke's eyes opened for only half a second, registered the darkness around him and the floor beneath his cheek, registered another human body next to him, registered the faraway understanding that it was Satoshi and that Wiz had succeeded in getting him safely to Hiwatari's, and then registered that he was safe now. His eyes closed again and he surrendered himself completely to the pain and fatigue…and yet, in the back of his mind, he also had time to register that in the brief moment he had taken to look around, he hadn't registered the Mystic's Dream anywhere, and that had seemed supremely odd.

**A/N: I know I took more than a lifetime to get this chapter up, but I was having trouble smoothing out the transition from one situation to another. I'm sorry for taking so long and I appreciate all my readers who have stayed faithful to this story. I do plan on finishing this thing, and promise to get the next chapter up much sooner.**


	19. What is False? What is Real?

**Chapter Nineteen—What Is False? What Is Real?**

Satoshi stepped down from the chair, tossing the roll of duct tape onto the kitchen counter and pushing his glasses up his nose. He looked up at the massive hole in his wall, at the black tarp he had just finished taping over the area. It was pathetic, to say the least, but it was all he had at the moment. In the morning, after he had sorted out his impossibly tangled affairs, he would see that it got fixed.

He left the living room then and headed to the back, his way lit only by a handful of candles he had been able to salvage from the wreckage. He passed through the darkened hall and into his bedroom where a singular form lay supine in his rumpled sheets, their chest rising deeply up and down. He leaned on the doorway and crossed his arms.

Why Daisuke had chosen to flee to him was beyond his comprehension.

Satoshi rubbed his forehead, forcing back sleep. He was just glad that he had finally been able to get Risa home.

The entire process had required him to carry her three blocks to a pay phone and wait in the cold air for his driver to pick them up, again, but it had been worth it. His driver was trustworthy to get her home and Satoshi could now concentrate on his tattered friend, his friend's exhausted pet and the weighty tome that came with both.

"Kyuu."

Satoshi looked down and saw the floppy-eared creature standing on his foot, looking up at him with droopy eyes. Despite his usual nature he bent down and scooped him up, surprised at how soft his fur was. "Kyuu."

"Still worried about your partner in crime, aren't you?" he said, casting an eye on the sleeping Niwa. "Well, I did the best that I could. When he's rested I'll bring both of you home. I don't want to move him just yet."

In response the little thing nuzzled his chest before hopping onto his shoulder and than over his head to land nimbly on the journal sitting atop Satoshi's dresser. He turned and stared down at the bound leather beneath the white paws. He didn't move.

It was sitting right there. After all the trouble he had gone through during the night here it was, within arm's reach.

It was a cruel reward.

With only half a glance in Niwa's direction Satoshi slipped the book out from beneath the little rabbit. It was heavy, with some uneven, ancient pages sticking out of the sides and pushing against the leather thong that wrapped around to keep the covers closed. The threads in the binding were already fraying at the top and bottom and the crinkling of dried parchment betrayed its cancelled appointment with the curator for its daily care. He raised it delicately in his hands. He would just have to be very careful with the treasure.

He turned to look at Niwa. He was still breathing strangely, but he would live. There wasn't much he could do now until his driver returned. He could steal a few moments for himself. It was only a few moments, right?

Satoshi made his way into his living room and dropped down onto his sofa. He had been able to right it, but because of all the wood and debris clogging his apartment he had to keep it pushed up awkwardly against the opposite wall. He curled into it now, gathering his meager collection of candles carefully around him. He lay the journal out on his lap and looked down at it.

It was strange, because now that he was at this moment he found that there was so much hesitation in his hands, his eyes, his mind. It was painfully anticlimactic, and yet there couldn't be any greater climax in his journey than this. This journal was the key to understanding the motivations to the Mystic's Dream, his perfect source for ending her nightly tirade. This was the moment in the horrific adventure when the story could stop beginning and start to end.

His lithe fingers hovered over the cover for much too long before he finally flipped back the leather. It creaked and cracked at the motion but remained in tact. The first page was empty, just yellowed parchment made golden in the candlelight. He flipped carefully to the next page and saw the Hikari name and crest inked into the top right corner. He flipped to the next page.

-----------------------------

_In her dream Risa was standing in a place she didn't know and when she looked around she couldn't quite see clearly. But she could feel the soft down of feathers on her skin and, even though scents never reached into her slumber, her dream-self could have sworn that the wondrous aroma of night and linen surrounded her._

_But there were sounds too, and when she allowed her dream-self to pay attention she realized that it was music playing. Not only that, but it was music she had heard before. Beautiful music…someone singing with a voice of satin…words of pure poetry. _

_The Mystic's own anthem._

_The words were quiet, as if from a distance and barely audible, but the same sadness and longing was definitely present, just as it had been at the museum. _

_The feel of feathers left Risa then and her vision was suddenly filled with Satoshi standing before her, looking down at her from his lanky height. He wasn't smiling and he wasn't frowning; he was wearing his easy expression, the one he wore when he was at rest and didn't have to worry about too many things at one time. An expression he rarely ever donned._

_Risa stared up at him with a slight sense of confusion. Her dreams had never looked this clear or felt this real. Her dream-self reached out to touch his face and, though her skin couldn't feel it, her mind did._

"_You look tired," she heard herself say to him. He nodded and lightly touched the back of her hand._

"_I am."_

"_Is that okay?"_

"_It doesn't matter. I couldn't rest regardless."_

"Come with me and we'll steal through the night…leave your world behind as we part from the light…in my dreams, somewhere in my dreams, you'll stay in my dreams, you'll never return…"

"_Do you hear that song?" she asked him, looking around at the place she couldn't see. "Do you hear her words?"_

"_No," he replied._

"_She's calling you," she told him. "She wants to take you away." There was the sound of rushing water that interrupted the song and Risa looked down to see a clear tide rolling in around their feet, like waves on the beach. "It's rising," she said, although she didn't know why. Satoshi looked down as well before guiding them slowly away from the wet._

"_It will come and take over everything," he said. "But then it will go again and leave things alone until next time."_

_Risa nodded, even though she didn't know why, and looked back up at him. "Is this still a dream?" she asked. "Or is this really happening?"_

"_If I answer how will you know if I'm telling the truth?" he countered. She didn't even hesitate to reply._

"_Because you wouldn't lie to me, not even in a dream." _

_That itself was a lie, or an uncertain truth, at the least. How could she know that he'd never lie to her? He'd lied to her before to protect his identity._

"_This isn't real," he told her. "You're imagining everything."_

"In my dreams. You'll stay in my dreams. You'll die in my dreams. You'll never return."

_Risa touched her forehead. "I can't get this song out of my head."_

"_It's not your fault. That's just how her powers work. Her words hold fast to the listener."_

"_Will you hold me? I'm afraid."_

"_Of course." And he did. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, cradling her with all the affection she longed for. It was unbelievably comforting._

"_The only reason you're doing this is because I want you to," she said against his chest. "And because this is how I imagine you to act. But the real you would never do this."_

"_I wouldn't?"_

"_No. You wouldn't."_

_His hold tightened the slightest bit. "That seems a bit cold of me then."_

"_Do you know what you would have really done?" She lifted her chin to look up at him. He gazed down at her in return._

"_Sure."_

"_If I had asked you to hold me because I was afraid you would have said nothing."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Yes. But then you would have left and taken care of whatever I was afraid of so then I wouldn't have any reason to be afraid anymore."_

"_Oh."_

_She held on tighter. "That's what makes you different." She lowered her eyes away from him and stared down at her hands against his chest._

"_Is different good?"_

"_Different is dangerous," she said. "But it also makes you wonderful."_

"Come with me…and we'll steal through the night…"

"_No," Risa whispered. "Find someone else. I want him to stay here. With me."_

--------------------

There was so much writing: there were diagrams and sketches and drawings and entries covering each page from top to bottom, left to write. Satoshi exercised so much restraint as he turned each page, forcing himself not to stop, not to dawdle on things. It was all amazingly enticing, of course, but now was not the time for personal pleasure and discovery. Now was the time for research.

His tired eyes skimmed each page, looking for any mentioning of the Mystic's Dream or **Silence**. He turned numerous pages, heard the crackling of aged parchment over and over again, and still nothing.

-----------------------

"_Risa."_

_She looked back up into his face and saw that he was looking over her head, frowning._

"_What is it?" she asked. He shook his head._

"_I can hear it now. I can hear her singing." He let his arms drop from around her and stepped away from her embrace. "I think I have to go."_

"_No," she said. She tried to beg but it wouldn't come out. "Don't go to her." He kept shaking his head._

"_I have to. It's just fair."_

---------------------------

It felt as though he were violating the law, but that was absurd. This was his ancestors' journal. That made it his journal. That made it okay.

Right?

His eyes burned from reading in dim light, but he forced himself to clearly see the words scribbled and scrawled before him.

The Mystic's Dream.

Mystic's Dream.

Where? Where? Where was it?

----------------------------

"_How is it fair?" she asked him. "After all that she has done?"_

"_After all I have done," Satoshi said._

"_That's so selfish."_

"_I am so selfish."_

_She shook her head, not liking what he was saying. "You don't belong to her. You're not hers."_

_He looked Risa in the eyes and she saw that his were not the glistening, calculating blue that she loved but the molten, golden eyes of the wretched, white-winged angel. _

"_There is a part of me that is hers," he said. "It will always belong to her. She will always own it. And though I wish it weren't true, she is justified in having it."_

"_Why?" Risa asked desperately, wanting Satoshi to step closer again. _

"_Because she fell in love and she cannot tell the difference between the man she loved and the monster he was consumed by…"_

--------------------------

There.

The tome practically slid from his lap but he caught it in time. But the words were there, with all the history he needed surrounding them.

'_I have succeeded in creating what I have named_ The Mystic's Dream_.'_

This was it. This was the entry he had been looking for. This entry, and the entries before it and the entries after it…this was it…

These were the clues…

These were the secrets…

…to stop the madness of the Mystic's Dream once and for all.

…

But…wait…

Satoshi stopped reading for a moment, looked a few pages ahead, looked a few pages after, and then went back to the entry he had been working on in the beginning. He had expected schematics, measurements, experiment logs, test results, rough drafts and sketches. He had expected information on the Mystic's Dream, because she had been a project, an artwork, just like everything else that had been created by the Hikaris. These were not just pieces of art, they were attempts at playing God, and so required careful creation.

But this…

Satoshi was dumbfounded, because everything that seemed to be involved with the Mystic's Dream had been written like a story.

A book.

A fairy tale.

--------------------------------------

_20 July _

_(In the third week of the completion of The Mystic's Dream)_

_To say that I am amazed by my own creation might seem vain, but it is true nonetheless. It is summer, the nights are short, and yet her progress is astounding. Already she speaks fluently in Latin and Aramaic, which are the languages in which I converse with her, and from there she will come into the living languages easier. She has learned to read and write, and does with such grace. She has deciphered all the ancient texts that I give her, and she fills pages and pages with her words of logic. And she is supremely observant. When I take her to the rooms where our art is being created she watches my family with great dedication. _

_Yesterday I took her to my brother's studio where he was sculpting from crystal with water and sand. She was absorbed in his work and told me later on that his face changed from when he was looking at his work and when he wasn't looking at his work. When I asked her to describe what the change was she hesitated, at a loss for words. Then she just remained silent. That is the moment I find most interesting about our last conversation. For someone who has become so educated, she was at a loss for words._

_This is something new to investigate._

_~K. Hikari_

_25 July_

_(In the fourth week of the completion of The Mystic's Dream)_

_She has accomplished something truly astounding._

_We had taught her how to dance—common and simple dances, her favorite being the minuet—and we had left it at that, thinking that although she is singularly gifted in grace the true beauty of a dancer comes from a human, one with a mortal soul able to breathe life into movement. This, we have all learned, cannot be taught and cannot be duplicated. An artwork can only do so much, but never be able to create another artwork with the same majesty of human hands. And so we thought it was the same case with the Mystic._

_And then I came to her tonight for our scheduled lesson and I found her awake and lively, as always. But she had found the old record player, wound it up, placed an album on the spinner and let the music ring through her chamber…and she was dancing. She was performing none of the dances we had taught her; none of the generic routines anyone could replicate. She was dancing one her own, an improvisation of her interpretation of the music. She was not regenerating material but creating her own._

Creating!

_I have never known anything of our gallery to be so independent and inventive! I was captivated by her dance, amazed at her ability to know her body so well and so fluently. I am almost embarrassed to say that I sat in the doorway for nearly an hour and simply watched her, but that is exactly what happened. _

_By the gods and my family, is it so shameful to take even more pride in this miracle I have created…_

_We have all come to love our pieces genuinely, but tonight I believe I loved the Mystic more than I thought I ever could. Ah, now only if she were a true maiden and not something made from sand and fire. Oh, how a fool's heart wishes._

_No matter, though. Being her creator and teacher is enough for me. Besides, she is only an object._

_~K. Hikari_

-------------------------

_"Satoshi, wait!"_

_But he was gone from her in a turn of his head and a flutter of his wings. Risa was left alone in a void of nothing, alone and scared in the echo of the Mystic's voice. She shivered, and even in her deep slumber she knew her body had shivered in the physical as well._

_"_So you are the maiden who has stolen the heart of my beloved master."

_Risa turned at the sound and screamed a silent scream as she came face to face with the Mystic. It was almost unbelievable how detailed she looked. How could this be her imagination if it was so accurate to the real thing?_

"You are cunning," _the artwork said, and her voice was low and sultry and so enticing. _"To have accomplished what I have slaved at for my entire existence."_ She took a step forward, her feet hovering in the air. Risa took three steps back._ "Do you love my master—,"

_"I do!" Risa cried, fear making her jumpy. "I do love him."_

"I love him."

_"But you cause him pain." She shivered again. "You don't want his love, just his heart and his soul. Don't distort the difference between coveting and wanting. One is false love and one is real and it is that difference that made him choose me over you."_

The Mystic smiled at her. Such a gorgeous smile. "He chose you?" she repeated. "Oh, sweet and glorious maiden, that is exactly what I was hoping you would say."

_Risa's froze and somewhere in her subconscious the sensation of cold and terror washed over her._

"You love my master, that much I know. You love him and so do I, and it is in that love that we find our common ground. Ah, but do you know how strong a connection can be made between two rivals in love?"

_Risa wanted to run, to evaporate, to be anywhere but listening to what this artwork had to say. She was afraid because it sounded so real and absolute; not at all like a dream state figure._

_"We aren't rivals--,"_

"We are rivals," _the Mystic interrupted, her hair beginning to rise and curl around her. _"There is no fabricating that. And you and my master both underestimate my powers in all of this….

"The mist is me and I am the mist. It entered you and so brought with it the very essence that makes me an artwork worth reckoning. A part of the feeble excuse for my soul now resides in your very being, in your heart, in the place you have reserved for your beloved Satoshi."

_She wasn't smiling as she spoke, only continued to approach Risa on her stage of air, an invisible wind blowing through her garments._

"So long as you love my master, I will have a place within you."

"_No!"_

"Yes!" _Her cry ripped through Risa's ears, forcing her to her knees. _"I am here, now, inside your mind! I may be trapped by **Silence**, but I have found my way into this world through the longing of a young girl's foolish desires! You dare to love that man…and though it tears at me I know he will love you in return. But day by day, as each second passes us by, you will diminish under me and I will emerge within you. And as your love grows for my master, so then my love will too until I consume you and overpower and take over you.

"Your soul will age. I will thrive. And my master, in loving you, will finally love me. "

_"Stop it! No! I won't let you! You'll never have him!"_

"Yes," _the Mystic said, her voice low and burdened. _"I will. And you will let me. You have no choice…"

---------------------------------

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End file.
